


Peanut

by wishfulfanficing



Category: Star Wars RPF
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Pregnancy, RPF, carrison
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-27
Updated: 2017-09-05
Packaged: 2018-11-05 10:04:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 20,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11011197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wishfulfanficing/pseuds/wishfulfanficing
Summary: In a kinder universe, Carrie and Harrison get ready to welcome Baby Ford.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> None of this happened. 
> 
> \--  
> TW: miscarriage mention

“Indiana Jones and the temple in the middle of bumfuck nowhere,” Harrison mumbled to himself as he pulled in to his driveway.

He’d played that moment over in his head so many times: he’d been in their bedroom, packing to return to Sri Lanka and become Indiana Jones a second time, when Carrie came in. “Guess what?” she giggled as he wrapped his arms around her. She smiled at him, and he knew.

It was a smile he recognized; he’d seen it once before. That’s probably why there was a small speck of fear in her eyes. Thinking back to her miscarriage terrified them both. Harrison had been there more than Paul had, and imagined he felt the loss almost as deeply.

He’d been filming Indy then, too.

It was something he desperately tried not to think about. In that moment, though, when she looked up at him and handed over the positive pregnancy test, everything was exactly the way it should be. Harrison chuckled thinking about it as he turned in to his driveway.

Harrison could see the light on from their front bay window. He’d hoped Carrie would be asleep, but he was glad she’d waited up for him.

Carrie was the first thing he saw when he opened the door - her tiny frame swam in one of his old tshirts. He held out his arms, smirked, and said “Honey, I’m home.”

She laughed and wrapped her arms around him. “You made it,” she muttered into his chest.

“I did,” he replied, kissing her forehead. They stood there for a moment - three weeks was too long to be away from his wife. His beautiful, talented, pregnant wife. Gently, he pulled back and placed a hand on her belly. “Hi, Peanut.”

Carrie smiled up at him. “We’re both really glad you’re home.” She put her hand over his and laced their fingers together. "Did you like being a big action…“ She stopped mid-sentence and turned white; turning around, she ran into their bathroom with Harrison close behind and wrenched over the sink. He came up behind her and stoked her back.

"I’m ok,” she reassured him. “This is kind of how it goes.”

He smoothed her hair and tucked a few stray locks behind her ears. “How long has it been like this?”

“Since a few days after you left,” she said, wiping the corners of her mouth with her thumb.

He frowned and kissed the top of her head. “I’m sorry sweetheart.”

She smiled at him. “What?” He shrugged and looked at her sheepishly. “What, for going to Sri Lanka? It’s ok. Really. I’m not the first pregnant person to…” she stopped again and doubled over the toilet.

“Damn. That’s… I’ve never seen anything able to shut you up like that.” She let go of her grip on the side of the bowl to slap him in the leg. He smirked and ran a washcloth under cool water, which he placed on the back of her neck. “I’m here now, to watch my handiwork unfold.” She slapped him again, and he kissed the top of her head, kneeling down next to her to support her shaking body. “You’re ok, I got you,” he reassured her as he rubbed her back.

She coughed a few times, then turned to look at him. “I think it’s over now.” Standing up, she leaned in close to kiss him, but he pulled away.

“Don’t come at me with that nasty vomit breath,” he said, feigning disgust.

She giggled and lunched at him, breathing deliberately in his face. “What, this breath?”

“Jesus. Yes, that breath.” She huffed at him again. “Stop it, you’re gonna hyperventilate,” he laughed.

She shrugged. “Worth it.” The smirk on her face melted Harrison’s heart.

He tried to retreat but she chased after him. “That’s it,” he said, picking her up and spinning her around.

“Shit… Harrison, don’t do that.”

He realized quickly what a terrible idea it was to spin her and placed her down gently. “Sorry, sweetheart,” he told her and placed a kiss on her forehead, then one on her lips. He felt her smile. “Ok, you,” he pulled back to look at her. “I’m fucking exhausted. Let’s go to bed.”

She nodded and led him into their bedroom. Harrison grinned as he slipped off his shoes, jeans, and shirt. Carrie snuggled under the blankets and beamed up at him. “I’m so glad you’re home,” she breathed.

“Me too,” he said as he climbed into bed next to her and wrapped his arms around her; he held her against his bare chest, suddenly aware of her slightly swollen belly. It hadn’t been there when he left. “You good, beautiful?” he asked.

She closed her eyes and snuggled into his chest. “I’m perfect.” She sighed contently. “I love you.”

“Love you,” he yawned and kissed the top of her head. “I love you both.”


	2. Chapter 2

The only thing worse than LA summer in a trailer without an air conditioner is an LA summer in a trailer without an air conditioner 9 weeks pregnant.

They hadn’t told anyone. After the miscarriage in ’84, they both felt a little gun shy. Carrie suspected that was part of the reason Harrison had acquiesced to her request to come with him to the studio while he finished Indiana Jones - he wanted to keep her close.

And close she was. She had her notebook balanced on the arm of the couch; his sleeping head had moved from her shoulder to her collarbone to her lap. Carrie smiled and kissed his forehead. His eyes fluttered open and he grinned up at her. “Hey beautiful.“ He sat up and leaned over to kiss her cheek. “How’s my family?”

Carrie’s smile widened. She loved when he said that. “You’re lucky I haven’t thrown up on you yet.”

He laughed, but his eyes showed genuine concern. “You alright? We can go outside…”

She shook her head. “It’s ok. It wouldn’t help. I’ll be sick no matter where we are.”

“Anything I can do?” he asked, stroking her cheek.

“Yeah… you can move your ass so I can make it to the bathroom.” Before he could react, she bounded over him and toward the back of the trailer. She pulled open the door and heaved over the sink with a white knuckle grip on the countertop.

Harrison saw her walking back and sat up. As she got closer, he held his arms open; she smiled at him and leaned back against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and sighed. "How you doing? You ok?”

“I’m good.” She settled into his embrace and moved his hands so his palms touched her stomach.

Harrison beamed and kissed her temple. He gently ran his hands over her sightly swollen belly. She sighed and closed her eyes. “That feel good?” he asked. She nodded.

“Yeah. That helps.”

“Good.” Harrison rested his chin on her head and inhaled the scent of her hair.

She wiggled in his arms. “The peanut is restless.”

“Hey, peanut,” he whispered, tightening his hold on her belly. “Chill out. Let your mommy rest.”

They lay there for a while before a production assistant knocked on the door. “Mr. Ford? Makeup is ready for you now.”

Harrison groaned. “Thank you. I’ll be right there.” He kissed the top of Carrie’s head and squeezed her as she smiled up at him.

“Go put your face on,” she giggled. “I’ll meet you in the studio.”

–  
When Harrison asked about bringing Carrie to the set for the studio shots, George Lucas agreed immediately. As executive producer, he didn’t necessarily need to be on set, but he took any excuse to see Carrie. It didn’t surprise him that they had ended up together: Carrie had Harrison wrapped around her finger since the day they met on the set of Star Wars over ten years ago. But still, the sight of big, macho Harrison Ford, Han Solo turned Indiana Jones, waiting on little Carrie Fisher (Carrie Fisher Ford, these days) made him chuckle.

As if on cue, Harrison walked over, still in costume, with a can of ginger ale for his wife. “Here, Carrie. This’ll help.”

Carrie turned to Harrison and grinned. “Thank you, darling,” she told him as she kissed his cheek. “I had food poisoning the other night, I’m still a little queasy,” she explained.

George just smiled.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: miscarriage mention, nightmares 
> 
> Featuring Debbie Reynolds

“My God… I’m speechless! Look at me - I’m speechless!!“

Carrie grinned as she watched her mother take in the news that she was going to be a grandmother. The tiny blonde woman brought her hands to her chest and smiled widely.

“Yeah, we’re pretty excited,” Harrison grinned.

“How long have you known?” she asked, turning to her daughter.

“A month or so. We’re somewhere around 8 weeks,” Carrie said, glancing at Harrison and smiling back at him. Debbie closed her eyes and clasped her hands together as if she was praying. “You’re the first person we’ve told.”

Debbie’s eyes lit up and she reached to touch Carrie’s stomach. “May I?”

“Of course!” Carrie took her mother’s hand and rested it on her belly. “She’s around the size of a cranberry.”

“She?”

Harrison blushed. “That’s what we’re hoping.” He gently kissed the top of Carrie’s head as he took in the joy she felt sharing the news with her mother.

“Every night he rubs my tummy and chants ‘girl, girl, girl’,” Carrie said with a giggle, making Harrison blush. “But we’re thrilled either way,” she continued, reaching for his hand, “as long as it’s healthy.”

“So thrilled,” he agreed, squeezing her hand and kissing her temple. “As long as it’s healthy,”

–  
They left Debbie’s and returned home. The thrill of telling someone blanketed them. Carrie stood by the window in the living room and watched Harrison read. Sensing her gaze, he looked up over his book and blew a kiss to her. She laughed and lifted her t-shirt to expose her barely-visible bump. “Hey Dad,” she squeaked in a high voice. “I’m the size of a grape! Wow!”

Harrison grinned; walking over to her, he knelt down and kissed her belly. “You’re a peanut,” he said, then stood up and kissed Carrie’s forehead. “And you’re a princess,” he told her.

Carrie laughed and wrapped her arms around her husband.

“Hollywood royalty, kid! That’s what you’ll get from her,” he continued. “That’s your mom’s family. My family is nice and normal and nobody slept with Elizabeth Taylor.”

“That you know of,” Carrie shot back with a smile.

–  
In the middle of the night, asleep and lying next to her husband in bed, Carrie started to sweat. A voice she couldn’t identify echoed in her ears.

_“You never should have told anyone.”_

She was alone in a room without windows. There was only one glowing blue light. Curious, she walked towards it. But as she got closer, it started to fade.

_“It’s not your fault. It wasn’t your fault.”_ She heard Harrison’s voice from years ago.

It was right in front of her, but flickering.

“Carrie!”

_“We’re somewhere around 8 weeks.”_ Her own words taunted her.  _“Girl, girl, girl…”_

Suddenly, the room was flooded with brilliant, white light. Carrie squinted but was barely able to make out the blue beacon.

“Carrie, sweetheart, wake up.”

The blue light went out.  

_“I’m sorry, Ms. Fisher; there’s no heartbeat.”_

“Carrie!” She finally heard Harrison’s voice; her eyes snapped open. His arms were wrapped around her and one hand rested on the back of her head.  "Look at me.” He pulled back slightly give her space to breathe.

“What happened.” It was more a statement than a question. Her wide brown eyes shot up to his as she fought to catch her breath.

“You’re ok.” he said firmly, trying to bring her back to the present. He ran his fingers through her hair; she grabbed at his shirt. “I’m right here.”

She swallowed hard and pressed her face into his shoulder. “It was a nightmare.”

Harrison gently rubbed her back. “That’s all it was. Breathe for me, beautiful.”

“But the baby.” Carrie blinked a few times, then looked up at him. “Nothing’s wrong with the baby?”

“Nothing’s wrong.” He smiled at her and gently kissed her forehead.

“It felt so real.”

“I know, sweetheart.” He untangled his hand from her hair to stroke her cheek. “Deep breaths.”

She breathed in, and it seemed to help; “We’re ok.”

“You and the peanut are just fine,” he soothed, moving his hand to her stomach. “Hey, Mom!” he said, mimicking Carrie’s earlier voice. “I’m ok! I’m thinking of new ways to make you puke your guts out later! Weeee!”

Carrie’s face broke out into a smile. She put her hand over Harrison’s and shifted to snuggle against his chest. “Wonderful,” she muttered as she closed her eyes.

“Go back to sleep. I’ve got you,” he whispered to her.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: miscarriage mention

“Hot chocolate, please,” Carrie said with a smile.

Mark raised an eyebrow. “Hot chocolate?”

“I can’t have caffeine,” she explained, biting in to a biscotti.

“What? Why not?”

“Because I’m pregnant,” she said flippantly.

Mark almost dropped his cup.

“Really? Wait… really!”

“No, we actually just came out from Beverly Hills just to fuck with you,” Harrison muttered as the waitress set a mug in front of him.

They sat there while Carrie opened her tea bag, gingerly place it in to the steaming cup, dunk it a few times, bring it to her nose, and deeply inhale. She looked at Mark across the table and bit her lip. For moment, Mark really thought he was on the receiving end of an elaborate Fisher-Ford prank. Then, Carrie’s face broke into a wide smile. “I’M PREGNANT!” She said it so loudly and so happily.

Mark turned to Harrison, who was grinning from ear to ear.

“Oh wow. Oh wow! Holy crap!” He stood up and hugged Harrison, then Carrie, who stood on her tiptoes to meet him. “So you’ll be naming him Mark?”

Carrie smiled. “We’re actually hoping for a girl.”

“So? Mark is a great name for any gender.”

–  
“Harrison - look at this! I’m getting so big,“ Carrie stood in front of the mirror rubbing her belly and smiling. For the first time, there was a noticeable bump.

Harrison laughed. “You’re gonna get a lot bigger than this, sweetheart,” he said, still laying in bed. “What fruit are we on now?”

“11 weeks - brussel sprout.”

Harrison grinned. “They didn’t have a less disgusting thing to compare her to?” he teased. He didn’t quite understand the trend of measuring the baby’s growth by fruits (and now, apparently, vegetables), but it made Carrie so happy to tell him every week how big their baby was. Seeing her happy made him happy - and, he had to admit, visualizing the baby’s size through produce did help him visualize how things were progressing.

“I guess not,” she shot back with fake annoyance. “By the way,” she added as she snuggled under the covers next to her husband, “I caught that.”

“Caught what?”

“You called her ‘she’.” Carrie beamed and placed a quick kiss on his cheek.

Harrison grinned. “You gotta believe, beautiful,” he told her as she nestled into his chest. They lay there for a little while. It was a Tuesday morning, but neither of them cared. “That’s not all I think about,” Harrison continued. “We can’t call her Peanut forever.” Carrie closed her eyes for a second and tensed. Harrison felt it; “you ok?” he asked as he kissed her forehead:

“It’s too early,” she muttered.

Something in her voice sobered him. He shifted to look at her face and slowly rub her back. “Too early for what, beautiful?”

Carrie sighed. “It’s too early for this, it’s too early for names, it’s too early to know she’s a her, it’s just too early.”

“Hey, woah, hey.” Harrison turned on his side to look at her, moving one hand to stroke her hair and the other to touch the bump. “Carrie, sweetheart…”

It tore at his heart to see her look away from him. “12 weeks. She muttered, dipping her head into his shoulder. “After 12 weeks your odds of a miscarriage drop in half.”

Harrison understood. “We’re at 11 weeks, that’s just one week away!”

That soothed her a little; she took a deep breath and settled back into the pillows, pulling Harrison with her. “That’s our next ultrasound. We can do names at the next appointment if they can find a heartbeat.”

“When. When they find a heartbeat.” He took her hand and and squeezed it tightly. “We heard it. We saw her. There’s no reason to be worried.”

“I know. I know it makes no sense and I know it’s insane but I…” She trailed off and looked up at him.

“Don’t be sorry,” he whispered, pulling her to him. “It’s ok.”

“Just one more week,” she sighed into his shoulder.

Harrison nodded and kissed the top of her head. "A lime,” he said, matter of factly.

“What?”

“The fruit for twelve weeks - it’s a lime.”

Carrie smiled. “She’s a lime.”


	5. Chapter 5

“Oh shit.” Carrie bolted upright and jumped out of bed. It was 3AM and she felt the sickening taste of vomit creep up her throat.

Harrison ran after her. She’d had a rough time in the beginning of her pregnancy, but things had sorted out until recently. She’d been throwing up around the clock all week. He knelt down next to her as she wretched again. “I’m right here, sweetheart. You’re ok.” He gathered her hair at the nape of her neck and placed a soothing hand on her back.

“Fuck…” she moaned.

“Morning sickness?” he asked softly, stepping back to give his wife room to breathe.

“If the sickness were confined to the mornings…” she started, but was hit by another wave of nausea before she could continue.

“Come here,” he coaxed.

She heaved again, so he went to her and scooped her up. “What’re you doing?” Carrie mumbled into his chest.

“I don’t want you on the floor,” he replied with a gentle kiss on her forehead. Lifting her tenderly, Harrison carried her into their bedroom and carefully laid her on their bed. “There’s a trash can right here.”

“Thank you, love.” She smiled and reached for his hand; he took it for a moment before walking back into the bathroom and returning with a damp washcloth.

“If this is too cold tell me,” he cooed as he placed it on her forehead. Carrie wiggled against his hand and beamed up at her husband. “That better, sweetheart?”

“Yeah. That helps,” she said, settling back into the pillow.

He kissed her cheek and lay down next to her. “I’ve got you,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around her protectively and pressing her back into his chest. “Deep breath, beautiful,“ he soothed as she squirmed through another wave of nausea.

“Ugghhh,” Carrie moaned. “I feel like I’m gonna die.” She coughed again before heaving over the trash can; her entire body shook.

“Shhh, it’s ok. Breathe into my hand.” He placed a hand on her belly and smiled as she inhaled. “I know it feels awful,” he said.

“You do, huh? Do you have extensive child-growing experience?” She tried to joke with him, but a jolt shot through her body and sent her back over the edge of the trash can.

“Carrie…” He rubbed circles into her back while she heaved one more time, then shuttered and settled back into his arms.

“I’m so tired.”

“I know. Close those beautiful eyes; I’m right here.” She muttered in agreement and snuggled into him.

Harrison pressed a kiss to the back of her head. “Good dreams only.” He wrapped his hand around her belly and pulled her closer.

“Good dreams only,” she replied sleepily.

“Sleep tight, Peanut,” he whispered, giving her belly a gentle squeeze. Even though Harrison knew it was far too early to feel anything, he still tried; Carrie had mentioned that the baby could hear them, and even though he felt silly talking to his wife’s stomach, he still liked the idea.

Carrie slept fitfully while he held her; she eventually shuffled around to bury her face in his chest as she slowly started to wake up. Her head throbbed and her stomach ached and churned, but snuggling up to Harrison made it almost bearable. Her eyes opened slowly and she sighed, content.

He saw she was awake and grinned. “Welcome back, beautiful,” he said, pressing a kiss to to forehead. “How’s my family?”

She beamed back at him. “We’re perfect,” she muttered, and snuggled back into his chest.

“Are you ready for tomorrow?”

Carrie’s stomach tightened as the thought about the 12 week ultrasound. She had no reason to be worried, and yet she was. _Just get through 12 weeks,_ she said to herself. _Odds of something going wrong drop after 12 weeks._ “Yeah,” she said with a deep breath. “I’m excited to see her.”

Harrison grinned. His habit of referring to the baby as “her” and “she” had rubbed off on his wife - every day he kept his fingers crossed for a baby girl. “Hear that, Peanut?” He tickled Carrie’s belly playfully. “We’re gonna take some pictures of you tomorrow, so make sure everything’s ready for company.”   
–

“Ms. Fisher, Mr. Ford? We’re ready for you,” the nurse called.

Carrie took Harrison’s hand as they stood up. “Ready?”

“So ready,” he said, placing a kiss on her forehead. “Let’s go see our girl.”

The nurse looked confused. “You know the gender?”

“Yes,” Carrie replied gravely. “It’s a burrito.”

“We wanted a waffle, so I guess we’ll have to try again,” Harrison added. Their jesting was met with mortified silence. “We’re messing with you, I’m sorry,” he admitted.

“I apologize for my husband, he thinks he’s really funny,” Carrie told the nurse, squeezing Harrison’s hand. “He really wants a little girl so we’re keeping up the fantasy as long as we can.”

The nurse smiled and looked at the chart. “Well, in a few weeks we’ll know for sure,” she said as they walked into the exam room. “Go ahead and get settled, Ms. Fisher, the doctor will be in shortly and we’ll take a look at your little one.”

“Ok, Peanut, showtime,” Harrison whispered, pressing a kiss to his wife’s temple. She reached for his hand and grabbed it tightly as she lay down.

“Hello everyone!” Their doctor was always so cheerful. “How are we all doing?”

“Great,” Carrie mumbled from the exam table.

“It’s ok, sweetheart,” Harrison whispered in his wife’s ear. “We’re a little anxious,” he explained, kissing Carrie’s forehead.

The doctor nodded. “Totally understandable. 12 weeks is an exciting one!”

“What’s her blood pressure? If it’s over 200 she owes me 20 bucks,” he quipped, trying to keep her calm. He didn’t know if it was Carrie’s tension or his own feelings, but he felt a knot in his stomach too.

The doctor laughed. “It’s a little high, but not that high - sorry, Mr. Ford. Here comes the cold jelly!”

Carrie inhaled sharply. The wand was out. They were here. It was time. Harrison squeezed her hand and lifted his other hand to stroke her hair. She was tense. “This is the lime week,” Harrison told the doctor, knowing it would make his wife smile.

“I’m sorry?” she replied.

“We have been tracking the baby’s size through fruits. It’s the most scientific method,” Harrison said with a smirk.

The doctor smiled back at him. “You ready, Mom and Dad?”

Carrie nodded. “Here we go.” Harrison kissed her temple again, and they both held their breath.

First they heard the “whoosh”, then something that sounded like a heard of wild horses. Carrie’s eyes snapped open - “Is that…?”

The doctor nodded. “There’s your baby’s heartbeat!”

Harrison grinned. “There it is! There it is. Wow.” He didn’t expect to be this affected, but a little tear crept into the corner of his eye. He bent down and kissed Carrie again; he felt her smile.

“Wow,” she repeated. “That’s her. She’s loud!”

“Of course she is, sweetheart, she’s yours,” Harrison smiled even wider and Carrie giggled.

The doctor moved the wand and an image appeared on the screen. “Oh wow. It looks like a little person,” Carrie said, her voice cracking a little.

The doctor grinned. “12 weeks is when they really get cute. Come back next month and we’ll be able to tell the sex, if that’s something you’re interested in.” Carrie nodded, then turned her attention back to the screen.

They stood in silence for a moment, just staring. The baby already looked perfect: it had a button nose, and tiny hands with ten fingers, and they could see a foot with five toes. They watched their baby on the screen and listened to the heartbeat and held each other’s hands tightly.

“Perfect,” Harrison finally said. “She’s perfect.”

“Hi, Peanut,” Carrie whispered. “We love you.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: infant gendering

“Emma Grace.”

“Yeah? Is that her name?” Harrison asked, smiling broadly.

“Definitely.” Carrie looked down at the piece of yellow paper. It was torn and creased from living in Harrison’s wallet, from his going over and over it, adding names for months. “Is that your name, Peanut?” she asked, rubbing her belly. They were 19 weeks in, and she definitely looked pregnant.

Harrison rubbed his hand over her belly. “You like that name, Peanut?” They sat quietly for a moment. “Feel anything yet?”

Carrie shook her head. “Not yet.”

“Well it’s still early, but you’re such a tiny thing,” Harrison said with a smile and a kiss to her forehead.

Carrie smiled. “I’m a little nervous,” she said in a small voice. “I’m really excited, I’m kinda nervous.”

Harrison walked over to her and kissed her forehead. “There’s nothing to be nervous about. It’s ok.”

She squeezed his hand. “Yeah?”

“Yeah…” he cooed, snuggling her closer. “Deep breath, beautiful.”

The pair got up and made their way to the car. Now that they’d entered the second trimester, Carrie was feeling much better physically - and much less anxious. Harrison loved her new, more relaxed state. She smiled and took his hand as they drove. “Hey, Daddy.”

He grinned. “You’re glowing.” He kissed the back of her hand as they pulled up to the doctor’s office. “One more time, for good measure.” He reached over and rubbed Carrie’s rounding belly. “Girl, girl, girl, girl, girl…”

Carrie grinned and took a deep breath. “Let’s go, my love.”

–  
“Ok, baby looks good, Mommy feeling good?” the doctor asked.

Carrie nodded from the exam table. Since 12 weeks, the appointments were less terrifying and more exciting. “Much better.” Harrison smiled and kissed her temple.

The doctor smiled back at them. “Alright - are we seeing the sex today?”

“We sure are!” Carrie grinned up at her husband, who placed one hand on her belly and moved the other gently to stroke her hair.

The doctor nodded as she turned her attention to the screen. “Congratulations, it’s a girl!”

Harrison laughed out loud. “She’s a girl! I knew it. I knew it.”

Carrie sat up and grinned. “Holy shit. A baby girl.”

Harrison squeezed her hand and whispered “I told you.”

“Baby girl Ford,” Carrie whispered back.

Harrison could have sworn he saw the tiny image on the screen wiggle at the sound of their voices.

The rest of the appointment was a blur: all Carrie heard from that point on was “girl” and “healthy” - and her smile got bigger every time the doctor called her “mommy.” When it was over, Harrison helped her down from the table, but instead of putting her down, he picked her up and spun her around.

“It worked!” He had the goofy smile, that real smile.

She kissed him deeply. “You ready for our baby girl?”

“Sweetheart,” he said, setting her down, “if she’s anything like you… I’ll never be ready.”

They made their way home, Carrie chattering excitedly and Harrison listening as much to the sound of her voice as he was to her words. When they parked in their driveway, he extended an arm to help her down, and was surprised when she took it. “I’m tired, ok? I’m growing a person.”

He smiled and kissed her temple. “A beautiful little person.”

They walked inside and Carrie slumped on the couch, tired but smiling. “Go call your mom,” she told him. “She’s gonna be thrilled.” Harrison winked at her and walked into the kitchen.

Sitting on her own, Carrie curled up in the chair next to the bay window and looked outside. Everything was so clear: the grass, the sky, the pavement. She rubbed her belly slowly. “Hi Emma… hi Peanut.” Her eyes stung a little. “I love you so much.” She sat there silently, holding her belly - holding her daughter. _Remember this feeling_ , she told herself, _this is what peace feels like_.

“You good, sweetheart?” Harrison walked back in and placed a mug of tea down next to his wife, then sat down next to her. He opened his arms and she snuggled into them.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m great.” She beamed up at him. “Thanks for the tea.”

“Of course, beautiful.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head as his arms tightened around her. “Gotta keep my girls happy.”

Carrie giggled. “Your girls…” He winked. “What did your mom say?”

Harrison grinned. “She’s thrilled. Absolutely beside herself. She’s been knitting a lot of pink stuff, so she’s very glad all that’s gonna go to good use.”

“I’m so glad.” Carrie shifted on the couch. “We’ll tell mother when we have dinner with her tonight.”

“Oh man… dinner with Debbie. What a time.”

–  
“Hello Harrison.”

Even though they were married now, even though they’d spent vacations, holidays, and countless dinners like this one. Those words sent a shiver down his spine. He opened his arms to hug his mother in law. “Hi Debbie.” She was a tiny woman, and he was over six feet tall, but she made him feel so small.

“How’s my grandbaby?” Debbie turned abruptly to Carrie and placed her hands on her belly.

“Hi Mom,” Carrie said with a hit of sarcasm. She winked at Harrison - she knew how nervous her mother made him.

“Shall we sit down?”

“Yes, we shall!” Carrie giggled and took Harrison’s hand as Debbie led them into the restaurant.

“I know we always come here, Richard always says I should branch out, but I like it here. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it, don’t you think?”

“Of course, mother.” Carrie smiled at her husband as he pulled her chair out for her; he replied with a kiss to her forehead.

“Plus they have private rooms, and this is a special occasion!” Debbie declared with a flourish of her napkin. “Have you told the press?”

“Not yet, but we’re going to soon. We wanted to make sure everyone close to us knows first,” Carrie said, taking a sip of her water.

“Well you’re going to have to do it soon, dear - you’ve been showing for some time now, I’m sure people-”

“Thank you mother.” Carrie interrupted. “We’re sending out something soon. We wanted to be SURE.”

Debbie nodded. She understood. “Of course, dear.”

“But we had a great ultrasound today, 19 weeks, heartbeat nice and strong, starting to see a little face,” Harrison cut in as Carrie reached for his hand under the table, and he held it tightly. “And there was one other thing.”

Debbie’s eyebrows raised. “Oh?”

Carrie’s face broke out into a radiant smile. “Yeah… Harrison, you tell her.”

He’d never been so happy to talk to Debbie in his life. “It’s a girl,” he said quietly but proudly.

“Oh my god.” Debbie’s eyes widened, and a smile - the same smile as Carrie’s - took over her face. “I knew it. I just knew it. Excuse me, sir…” she flagged down a passing waiter. “I’m going to be a grandmother to a baby girl!”

The man blushed and looked over at Carrie and Harrison. Harrison smiled sheepishly and Carrie waved. “Congratulations, Mrs. Reynolds,” he said, looking down.

Debbie looked back at her daughter and her husband. “A baby girl. Do we have a name?”

Harrison looked over at Carrie. “Tell her, sweetheart.”

Carrie beamed and put her hand over her belly. “Emma. Emma Grace Ford. But we’re still calling her Peanut.” Just then, for the first time, Carrie felt a kick. It was tiny, but it was strong.


	7. Chapter 7

-7- 

 

Carrie felt surprisingly calm. She’d dreaded coming out to New York to officially announce the pregnancy, but now that she was here, she was almost excited.  

 

“Any word on what we’re having?” David Letterman leaned forward towards her and Harrison on his couch. 

 

“Well… Harrison, you tell him.” She knew how much her husband loved telling people little details about their baby. 

 

Harrison winked at her. He was sweating under the stage lights - and probably from nerves, too. “It’s a girl.”

 

The audience cheered, and Harrison reached for Carrie’s hand. She took it and clutched it tightly. “We are SO excited,” she added, laughing. 

 

“And we’re all excited for you. So, will this child be raised on the Millennium Falcon?” David joked, eliciting jitters from the audience. 

 

Carrie smirked. “Only if Lucasfilm gives us the rights.” 

 

David snorted. “Before you go, are there any other Star Wars babies we should be on the lookout for?” 

 

“So funny you asked,” Carrie said with a smile. “C-3PO and Chewbacca are have started the process to adopt their first.” 

 

“Sort of an inter-species child rearing situation,” Harrison chimed in.

 

“We’ve been asked to be their references.”  

 

David laughed and laughed, flopping his head on his desk. “Well thank you so much for coming out; ladies and gentlemen, the future parents Carrie Fisher and Harrison Ford!” 

 

Hearing their names said so close in the same sentence still send a shiver down Carrie’s spine and put butterflies in her stomach. She looked over at Harrison, who was shaking David’s hand and beaming. _Incredible_ , she thought to herself. _This is incredible._ She felt the baby kick and her hand flew instinctively to her stomach. “Shhhh, Peanut,” she whispered. 

 

Harrison turned to her. “You ok, sweetheart? She ok?”

 

Carrie smiled and kissed him deeply. “We’re perfect. She’s kicking up a storm.”

 

“Maybe she likes the applause.” Harrison snickered and kissed Carrie’s forehead, wrapping her in a tight hug. “Either that or she thinks it’s too loud.” 

 

“She thinks you’re squishing her,” Carrie muttered, and squeezed Harrison back. 

 

“You two…” David laughed. “Any big plans while you’re in the Big Apple?”

 

“We came out for the taping, and to see Mark’s workshop,” Carrie answered as Harrison rested his chin on the top of her head. “He’s in this play about nerds. It fits.” Harrison laughed, and the jolt sent the baby into another flurry of kicking. “See? Peanut agrees with me.”

 

David smiled. “Peanut? Is that her name?”

 

Harrison blushed a little. “Yeah… her actual name is Emma but we’ve called her ‘peanut’ from day one, and it’s kind of stuck,” he explained. “Carrie has this book…”

 

“The one that tells you how big it is according to fruit?”

 

Now it was Carrie’s turn to blush. “Maybe.” 

 

Harrison tightens his grip around his wife. “This week she’s a grapefruit - 23 weeks!” He moved his hand around to touch her belly just in time to feel the light flutter of the baby’s kick. 

 

— 

“Where are we meeting Mark?” Carrie asked as Harrison helped her out of the cab. 

 

“Hotel bar,” Harrison said. 

 

Carrie raised her eyebrow. “A bar?”

 

“Ummm… yeah…” Harrison said, sensing her tone. “Grab a drink or two, chat, you know…”

 

Carrie yanked her hand from his. “What the hell am I supposed to be doing at a bar?”

 

Harrison stopped in his tracks. “Oh, come on Carrie. They have other stuff there, food and stuff.” 

 

“That’s not the point.”

 

“The point?” His voice was rising to match hers. “The point is for us to see Mark.” 

 

“The point is that you didn’t even ask or consider…” she trailed off. “You know what? Fuck this. My back hurts, my ankles are swollen, I’m getting kicked from the the inside, I’m exhausted… there’s a lot more to this than fruit sizes and smiling and doing talk shows.”

 

“Woah, woah, Carrie…” Sensing her anger and hurt, he moved towards her, extending his arm again. 

 

“Let’s see if you can guess,” she huffed, pulling away from him. “Go. See Mark. Have a drink. Be Harrison FUCKING Ford. And I’ll just fuck off so you can do that, and I’ll show up again when you want to play daddy, or whatever.” 

 

“Listen…” He knew this was likely a combination of hormones and exhaustion, but he didn’t care. “You better stop right there. We’re not doing this now. We’re not doing this here. ”

 

“Don’t… Jesus. I’m going upstairs. Don’t follow me.” 

 

—

“So she blew up at you, huh?”

 

Harrison nodded and shook the ice in his drink. “Yep. Straight out of left field. No warning. Just… BOOM.”

 

“Really? Out of nowhere?”

 

Harrison shrugged. “She’s pissed that we’re at a bar, I guess. She can’t drink, or go out really…”

 

“She probably feels like shit,” Mark said, taking a sip. “Physically.”

 

“And knowing we’re down here…” The two men sat in silence. “Dude. We fucked up.”

 

“Excuse me?” Mark feigned offense. “YOU fucked up, my friend. I’m just in your orbit… your orbit of fuck.” 

 

Harrison laughed. “I didn’t see you suggesting any pregnancy-friendly options, Nerd.” He reached into his wallet and threw some bills down on the bar. “Come on. We have to un-fuck this.” 

 

__

Carrie heard the door open, then creak shut. “Harrison?” she murmured from the bed, not moving her head from the pillow. She’d taken off her Letterman outfit and changed into sweatpants and one of Harrison’s t-shirts. She felt bad: bad that she’d yelled at him, bad that the public had seen, bad that she wasn’t with him and Mark. She felt the bed dip as Harrison lay down next to her. 

 

“Hey, sweetheart,” he whispered in her ear as he slipped his arms around her. 

 

“I’m sorry about before,” she said, turning to face him. “I shouldn’t have yelled. I shouldn’t have said those things.”

 

He smiled and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’m sorry too. We should have realized.” 

 

“S’ok.” She snuggled her face into his shoulder. 

 

“Listen, Carrie…” he said, pulling back to look at her. “We felt bad…” 

 

“We?”

 

“Mark and me… we felt bad so we brought up some stuff. You feeling up to bad movies and pizza?” 

 

Her face broke into a smile. “Really?” 

 

He kissed her again. “Absolutely. We think we found the worst movie ever made and, lucky you, we brought it back here.” 

 

“Is it _Cry Wilderness_?”

 

“Of course it’s _Cry Wilderness_. Only the greatest cinematic masterpieces for you, my love.” She laughed. 

 

“Thank you,” she whispered. 

 

“Of course, beautiful.” He kissed the top of her head. “Come on. Mark’s waiting.” He hopped out of bed and extended his hand; she took it with a smile. 

 

“Before we go in…” He turned back to look at her. “You are… you’ve been incredible. Though this whole process. You’re gonna be a great dad. You’re already a great dad.” 

 

Harrison smiled; it was the type of smile that took up his entire face. “ Anything for my girls.” He kissed her, moving one hand around her shoulders to pull her to him and placing the other on her belly. “And you’re already an amazing mom. Our peanut is lucky.” As if on cue, they felt her kick.


	8. Chapter 8

“Harrison… Harrison.“

He half-opened his eyes to look at his wife. "Carrie… what’s wrong?” It was the middle of the night, and her voice cut through the silence like the hiss of a teakettle.

“Can you bring me some mayonnaise?”

“I’m sorry, what?” Harrison put his hand to his ear to make sure he’d heard her correctly. “A jar of mayonnaise?”

“Not a jar. A spoonful. Just a spoonful.”

“Really?”

“Harrison…” she whined. “Your baby girl wants mayonnaise.”

Harrison groaned. “She wants or you want?”

“Distinction without a difference.”

“Dammit sweetheart.” He stood up with an exaggerated moan. “Of all the disgusting things.”

She grinned at him. “Thank you.”

He winked at her and headed into the kitchen. “I can’t believe she wants this,” he said, shaking his head but smiling. Holding the spoonful as far away from his nose as he could, Harrison walked slowly back in their room. “Carrie… Carrie…” he whispered.

She stirred and looked up at him with a big smile. “Thank you, my love,” she said with smile.“

He pulled the blanket up to her chin. "You good, sweetheart?”

“Yeah. I’m perfect.“

“Good,” he said with a kiss to her forehead. “You ok, Peanut?”

Carrie smiled and answered in the voice they’d give little Emma. “Daddy, I’m just fine! I’m kicking the shit out of my mom right now!!”

“Wonderful. Keep going. And enjoy your spoonful of mayonnaise, you sick freak.”

–  
The next morning, Harrison woke up to find his wife gone. Perplexed, he walked into the kitchen to find her crying. "Carrie? Sweetheart?”

“The ice cream…” She gestured to the pint melting on the counter.

“Is it all ice cream that’s upsetting you or just this particular flavor?” She glared at him as he opened his arms so she could snuggle against his chest. "C'mere, beautiful.”

She sighed and walked over to him. “I’m sorry,” she sniffed as she slipped into his embrace. “I’m a ball of hormones right now.”

He laughed. “I know, sweetheart.”

“I really want your boys to feel like they have a home here, and I wanna be a good mom,” she continued. “Good moms don’t get strawberry ice cream when the kids want chocolate.”   
  
“Carrie…” He suddenly understood. “Is that what this is about?”

She nodded, fresh tears pooling in her eyes. “They’ll be here tomorrow… I don’t want them to think that I love them less because I’m having my own baby now, or because it’ll be the only girl.”

“Sweetheart.” He placed a lingering kiss on her forehead.

“I wanna be a good mom,” she repeated.

Harrison took a deep breath. “You are. Carrie, the boys adore you.” He led her to the kitchen table and sat down across from her, taking her small hands in his.

“I know Mary is their mother, and I’m their step mother… I love them so much. Now with Emma on the way…”

“Mary and I discussed this, briefly,” Harrison said, squeezing her hands. “The boys are excited, they love the fact that they’re getting a little sister. While they’re here we can have them help us with her room, have them pick out some toys for her, get them involved.”

Carrie nodded. “I think that’s a good idea. And they’ll still have their rooms here…”

“They aren’t losing anything. Hell, they’re getting promoted.” He smiled at his wife, who was deep in thought.

Finally, she spoke. “I bet we can get her to kick for them while they’re here.”

Harrison’s eyes lit up at the suggestion. “Yes! Perfect.” He reached across the table to place his hand on her belly. “Think you can do that, Peanut?” Carrie giggled as they both felt a flutter; Emma was responding to her father’s voice.

“Just like that, baby girl,” Carrie said, placing her hand on top of her husband’s.

They sat there for a moment. “For the record,” Harrison said, “you’re an amazing mom. The boys are lucky. It’s not every step mom who gets so emotionally invested in their ice cream preferences.”

Carrie laughed, the traces of her previous anxiety floating away. “We still have a day. We can get the right flavor tonight?”

Harrison nodded. “Feeling better, beautiful?”

“I am - thank you.” She stood up and kissed his cheek.

“I’m so glad.” He stood up to meet her and wrapped her in his arms. “But maybe we should eat the offending dessert, just in case.”

“Excellent idea.” She smiled up at him. “Destroy the evidence.” Her hand flew back to her belly. “You like strawberry ice cream, Peanut?”

Harrison winked at his wife. “Only one way to find out.”


	9. Chapter 9

“DAD!” Eleven year old Ben and his eight year old brother Willard bounded towards their father, who was crouching down with open arms.

“Hello gentlemen! How was the plane ride?”

“It was AMAZING! We got to watch two movies and they gave us McDonalds and we went through a metal detector…” Willard and his brother had flown countless times, but for the impish and talkative brunette every trip was an adventure.

“Really?” Harrison lifted up his youngest son and spun him around, eliciting giggles. “Glad to know some airlines still know how to treat a man.”

Ben, who had always been quieter than his brother, approached Harrison calmly but eagerly. “Hi, Dad,” he said.

Harrison was amazed at how different the budding preteen looked every time he saw him. “Look at you. Too cool to give your old man a hug,” he teased as he extended his hand for a gentlemanly shake. Ben smirked - that Ford family smirk - and wrapped his arms around his father.

Carrie grinned; she loved watching Harrison with his boys. She felt a twinge of guilt; they still had four months until the baby’s arrival, but for the first time she was acutely aware that this was one of the last times they’d be his only children, Willard’s last months as the youngest, Ben putting his little boy self behind him. It wasn’t a bad thing, she reminded herself, but she did feel a tug on her heartstrings that was hard for her to name.

“Carrie!” Willard’s voice cut through her thoughts as he approached her. He stopped as he noticed her belly and looked to his father, unsure of what to do.

Harrison had seen them often, maintaining a small plane and pilot license to see them in their home in Montana, but Carrie hadn’t seen them since before she knew she was pregnant. “It’s ok. You can rub my belly and say hi,” Carrie encouraged with a laugh.

Willard’s smile returned as he reached a tiny hand her way. “Hi Baby Sister!”

“What’s her name?” Ben asked, his voice betraying his excitement.

Harrison grinned. They’d decided to keep the name from the boys until they were all together in person. “Her name is Emma,” he told them, pronouncing his daughter’s name with love and awe. “Emma Grace Ford.”

–  
“Carrie?” Ben’s small voice surprised her - she thought she’d been alone. The boys had an action-packed first day in Los Angeles: from seeing the Hollywood Walk of Fame, to trying new Chinese food, to wearing themselves out in the city park, Carrie was exhausted and had gone to lie down. She thought that both boys were outside continuing their fun with their father, but the older one had sought her out.

“Hi, Ben,” she smiled at him. When he was younger the two of them had been thick as thieves; while they still shared a connection, his new “cool” middle school persona had changed how he related to his parents and step parents.

He walked up to her cautiously. “Can I say hi to Emma?”

Carrie beamed. “Of course, love.”

Ben cautiously held out his hand; Carrie took it and placed it on her belly. “Hi, Emma,” he said. As he spoke, Carrie felt a strong *thwak* as the baby kicked to greet the boy. Ben’s face broke out into a broad, genuine smile. “She kicked me!”

“That’s your big brother, Peanut,” Carrie whispered. “That’s Ben.”

The pair were so engrossed in the moment that they almost didn’t hear Willard and Harrison come in.

“I see we’re all smiles,” Harrison said, pressing a kiss to the top of Carrie’s head.

“The baby kicked me!” Ben announced proudly, his hand still rubbing his step-mother’s stomach.

“Hey, no fair,” Willard pouted.

“Don’t worry,” Carrie laughed. “She’ll kick you soon enough. She kicks me all night.”

“Maybe she’ll be a soccer player, or do karate,” Willard quipped, his former mood evaporating.

Carrie laughed again. “At this point, I’d put money on it.”

“Hey, Will,” Harrison said as he nudged the boy toward Carrie. “Wanna tell Carrie what you told me outside?”

The boy giggled and covered his face with uncharacteristic shyness. “I think Emma is really lucky because you’re a good mom.” 


	10. Chapter 10

“Hey, kiddo… you’ve got a little something on your nose,” Carrie teased. Willard looked at her, confused - just in time for her to dap white paint right between his eyes.

“Oh yeah?” he smirked, picking up a paint brush. “You’ve got a big something on your arm!” He swiped a thick line from her shoulder to her wrist as his brother Ben howled with delight.

“Ok, you two, some of that has to go on the walls,” Harrison called from the doorway. Always the craftsman, he was meticulously painting the trim on his soon-to-be daughter’s door frame while his sons and wife tackled the walls.

“I can’t believe you’re making a pregnant woman do this,” Carrie huffed.

“You’re the one who insisted we repaint the room,” he shot back.

“Yeah, from grey!” Carrie rolled her eyes. “You were gonna let our daughter come home to a nursery with grey walls. I bet if you profile serial killers, a significant number of them had grey bedrooms as children. That’s how it starts.”

Harrison snorted, almost losing his footing. “I’m sure, dear.”

“Well I can’t believe you’re making CHILDREN do this,” Ben quipped with a theatrical swipe of his brush.

“Child labor builds character,” Harrison said dryly.

Just then, the doorbell rang. “It must be Mark,” Carrie told the boys. Excited to see their Uncle Mark, they shot up and ran out of the room to get the door.

Harrison climbed down from his ladder and walked over to his paint-splattered wife, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Hey, beautiful.”

She beamed up at him. “Hey, hot shot.” She stood up and wrapped her arms around him. “Thank you for doing this.”

“Of course.” He returned her embrace as she snuggled her head into his chest. “Anything for my girls.”

They were interrupted by the thundering steps of Ben and Willard, each pulling one of Mark’s arms into the room. “Look who the boys found wandering outside,” Carrie said with a laugh.

Mark grinned as he walked up to Carrie and placed a hand on either side of her bulging belly. “Hi Emma! How’s my goddaughter doing?”

“She’s great - I’m fine too, by the way,” Carrie smirked as she maneuvered to hug Mark, who placed a chaste kiss on her cheek. “Look at my husband, painting his daughter’s room,” she said, gesturing to Harrison.

“It was grey before, which causes children to have murderous tendencies, or something.” He grinned as he approached his best friend, turning their handshake into a hug. “You gonna help us out, there, Hamill? I told ya to wear old clothes.”

Mark cocked his head to the side. “These are my old clothes,” he said, gesturing to a stylish black v-neck and dark wash jeans.

“You old fashionista, you,” Carrie chuckled as she handed him a paint roller. “You can get the parts of the wall I can’t reach.”

–   
“Holy hell. I am so tired.” Harrison sunk into the couch.

“Oh, YOU’RE tired?”

“Sweetheart…” he groaned, lifting her legs to gently rub Carrie’s feet. “I detailed that entire room.”

“Yeah, and I’m growing the thing that’s gonna live in it.”

He chuckled and shifted to kiss her forehead. “You win, beautiful.”

Just then, Willard’s head snuck around the door, followed by his brother.

“Boys! What are you doing here? I thought you were out with Mark,” Carrie said. “Don’t tell me you left him alone.”

They giggled, and Ben nudged Willard towards the couch. “What you got there, gentlemen?” Harrison asked, sitting up.

“We have something for Carrie. From Mom.” Ben held out a brightly wrapped package.

Carrie inhaled sharply and glanced at Harrison. She and Mary had a fraught relationship: she and Harrison had been separated when he and Carrie met, but she always wondered if Mary blamed her for the fact that they never reconciled. Still, the fact that she’d sent something touched Carrie.

“Open it!” Willard yelling yelped excitedly as his brother handed Carrie the present.

“Thank you boys - that’s so sweet of your mom,” Carrie said with a smile. She untied the bow, then carefully unwrapped the box. For some reason, she was nervous. She could feel Harrison tense as well. Gingerly, she peeled back the tissue paper to reveal a darling white onesie with a Peter Pan collar and pink bunnies. It was a beautiful gift. “Oh, my! This is perfect. Look, Peanut!” She unfolded the garment and held it against her stomach. “A present for you!” She felt a kick. “She loves it!”

Harrison looked surprised and a little relieved. “There’s a card, too.”

Carrie reached back into the box and pulled out a plain but elegant envelope. She opened it to find a matching card with a pink bow. Carrie read the handwritten note out loud: “Carrie and Harrison: Congratulations on your baby girl. I know she will be loved by her two big brothers and her wonderful parents. Warmly, Mary”.   
Carrie sighed. It was heartfelt and beautiful. For a moment, she forgot anyone else was there and sat with the card in one hand and and the other on her belly.

“Well isn’t that something,” Harrison breathed, breaking the silence.

“I’m gonna go call her,” Carrie said, standing up and handing the box and card to her husband.

She wasn’t sure what she was going to say as she walked over to the phone, and she briefly had second thoughts as she dialed the number. Mary and the boys still lived in the same house they’d shared with Harrison. She’d called him on that same number in 1977.

It rang once. Carrie’s stomach flipped, and not because of the baby. Twice. She wondered if she should hang up. Three times. She adjusted her grip to put the phone down, but stopped when she heard Mary’s voice. “Hello?”

She took a deep breath. “Hi, Mary? It’s Carrie Fisher.” Carrie always felt the need to introduce herself by her full name, partially as a form of respect and partially as a method of defense.

“Hi, Carrie.” Her voice was flinty and pleasant, as it always was.

“Hi. The boys… uh… they gave us the present you sent.” She cringed when she said the word “us”. Years later, Carrie still wondered if using “us” to refer to her and Harrison felt like a slap in the face.

If Mary had noticed, she didn’t show it. “Wonderful. I was worried they’d forget.”

Silence. “It’s darling, and the card was beautiful. It means a lot to me. Thank you, truly.”

“You’re so welcome.” She heard Mary inhale on the other end of the line. “And thank YOU, Carrie.”

“Me? For what?”

“For loving my boys. And for working so hard to include them in your pregnancy. And for making them so excited to be big brothers.”

Carrie smiled and blinked back silent tears. “Of course,” she whispered. “They’re wonderful boys… and you’re a wonderful mother.”

“Thank you. You’re a wonderful step mother.”

Carrie’s smile widened as the last of her anxious nerves flew away. “I love having them here, but I know they miss you. Wanna chat with them? I’ll call them right now.”

“I’d love that!” Mary’s voice brightened at the opportunity to talk to her sons. “And Carrie?”

“Yes?”

“It was lovely to talk to you. Mother to mother.”

–   
They ordered pizza for dinner after the boys finish talking to their mother. Mark stayed and helped clean up before returning to his family and his children. The boys went outside to play by the light of the streetlamps. Carrie sat in the bay window, watching them in the front yard for a while, before Emma started kicking.

“Hey, Peanut. Shhh…” The sound of her voice didn’t stop the tiny but strong fluttering. “Ok…” she said, standing up. “Let’s go see what your daddy’s up to.”

Still holding her belly, Carrie walked down the hallway in search of her husband. For the first time, she noticed that she was waddling more than she was walking, and that made her smile - both because of how funny she felt walking that way and because it meant her due date was getting closer. She stopped when she saw the light was on in the baby’s room. As she walked inside, she saw her husband standing in the middle of the unfurnished room, holding a pink receiving blanket in his hands. “Is that the one Mark brought over?” she asked.

Harrison didn’t turn around, but he nodded. She came up behind him and, as best she could, wrapped her arms around his waist from behind. She still on her tiptoes and rested her head on his shoulder. “Hey you,” he muttered.

“Hey, daddy.”

Harrison smiled and turned around to return Carrie’s embrace. “My girls doing good?”

Carrie responded with a playful kiss. “We’re doing great.”

His grin widened as he pulled back to put one hand on Carrie’s belly and use the other to cradle her cheek. “We’re getting close to your birthday, Peanut.” He kissed his wife’s forehead. “You ready, Fisher?”

She squeezed him tightly. “More ready than you are, Ford.”

He laughed and talked her head into his chest. “Sweetheart,” he whispered, “you have no idea how ready I am.”


	11. Chapter 11

“Lemme make sure I have this right: you’re kicking me out of MY house for a party for MY wife and MY daughter?”

“Exactly right,“ Carrie snickered at her husband and gave her husband a chaste kiss on the cheek.

“Don’t think of it as being kicked out… think of it as an opportunity for exploration. Baby showers are traditionally reserved for women,” Debbie explained as she busied herself with flower arrangements. “Now, Carrie, I’ll get here tomorrow around one to get everything ready. Guests will start arriving around half past, so let’s be sure to be ready by then.”

“Yes Mother,” Carrie said, ignoring the older woman’s pointed remark.

They were at the point in her pregnancy when she couldn’t hug him without effort. She still tried, though, and it always made him smile. She kissed him playfully. “You and Mark have plans, right?”

Harrison kissed her forehead. “We do. Fantastic, manly, non-baby shower plans.”

Carrie grinned and kissed him again. “Good. Go frolic through Beverly Hills.”

“Sweetheart,” Harrison said, wrapping his arms around her as best he could and smiling. “We do not frolic. We cavort, in an extremely masculine fashion.”

—  
“Carrie, it’s 12:45, your mom will be here soon!” Harrison called from the hallway. He’d heard her get out of the shower half an hour ago, but hadn’t heard anything from her since. “Carrie?” He called her name again as he walked into their room.

She was standing in front of their full length mirror with a half-zipped white dress, one shoe on, and tears streaming down her face. “It won’t zip,” she sniffled, turning around. “I’m too fat for this fucking dress.”

“You’re not fat, you’re pregnant,” he said gently, moving fast to wrap her in his arms.

“This is a maternity dress. It’s made for pregnant people. If it doesn’t fit…” she trailed off and pulled away from him.

“Carrie… look at me, beautiful.” He placed a finger under her chin and lifted her face, but she till avoided his gaze.

“Don’t,” she whispered. “Don’t call me ‘beautiful’ when I’m so obviously not.”

“Carrie…” He wasn’t sure what to say, but his hold on her tightened.

“You’re not supposed to gain that much weight when you’re pregnant, I gained fifty fucking pounds and it shows,” she continued. “My face is broken out, my ankles are swollen, there are stretch marks EVERYWHERE.” She was crying again. “I’m so sorry, Harrison.”

“Sweetheart… why are you sorry?”

She finally looked at him. “I’m sorry I look like this. I’m sorry I let myself get like this. I’m sorry I’m not the little thing you married. I’m so sorry.”

“Carrie.” He said her name with love and care, but fiercely, as he gently took her shoulders and led her to sit on their bed. “Sit tight,” he whispered with a kiss to her forehead before he walked out of the room.

He returned a moment later with a photo they usually kept on the mantle in their living room. “Who’s this?” he asked, sitting down next to her.

She sniffled. “That’s us, at our wedding… why would you bring this to me?”

He didn’t answer, but instead pulled out another, smaller photo. “Who’s this?”

“That’s me as a kid, on the set with my mom…” Carrie said, getting a little impatient. “Why are you showing me pictures?”

“Look at this sweet little girl. Would you talk to this little girl the same way you talked to yourself just now?

It was corny, but it made Carrie smile. “I get it…”

Harrison wasn’t done. He took the photo out of her hand and replaced it with the framed picture. “That’s my wife,” he said softly, pointing to the photo of the two of them on their wedding day. “And I don’t let anyone talk that way about my wife.”

She turned to him, wiping her tears, unsure of what to say. “Harrison…”

He took her hand and held it tightly. “Sweetheart… You’re just as beautiful today as you were then. More beautiful. I love you just as much today as I did then. Actually, not as much - even more.”

Carrie smiled and blinked. “I love you too.”

“You are beautiful and I love you.” He kissed her and repeated, “You are beautiful and I love you.”

“How many times are you gonna say that,” she asked.

He kissed her forehead. “As many times as it takes for you to believe it.” They sat in silence for a while as he ran his fingers through her hair and whispered reassurances to her, when they heard the door open.

“Shit, my mom’s here. You gotta go,” Carrie said, trying to jump up as fast as she could but rolling back onto the bed.

Harrison laughed and helped her off the bed. “Consider me gone. I’ll sneak out the back. You get dressed, I’ll see you tonight.” He headed toward the hallway but turned back to her when he reached the door. “Carrie?”

She smiled at him. “What, darling?”

“I love you, beautiful.” He winked at her and tiptoed out of the room.

__   
Carrie surveyed the room. There were her old friends, her younger step sister, and a handful of women she didn’t recognize - likely there at Debbie’s invitation. Just as she was about to get up, she heard the door open and the unmistakable sound of heels clicking down the hallway.

Debbie hadn’t expected her. Carrie didn’t even know she was in town. But somehow, Carrie sensed Elizabeth Taylor was near before she entered the room. She stood in the doorway, clad in her signature black save a single strand of pink pearls. “Hello, Debbie. Hello, Carrie.”

“Hello Elizabeth,” Debbie said, not looking up from the plate of sugar cookies she was offering a guest.

If that bothered Elizabeth, she didn’t show it. “Carrie!” she gushed, holding out an iconic blue box with a white ribbon. Carrie took if from her, and Elizabeth waved her hand, signaling Carrie to open it. She untied the bow and opened the box.

“A literal silver spoon,” she muttered as Carrie pulled the tiny object from its delicate packaging. “Read the card.”

Carrie did as the stately woman requested. “It says, ‘Insert into mouth at birth. Proceed accordingly’.” Carrie snorted. “Oh, this is perfect. Thank you.”

“Will you be staying long, Elizabeth?” Debbie asked, finally looking at her former friend.

“No, dear, I’m just passing through. But I had to drop this off for my favorite step daughter.” Elizabeth held her arms open for a hug.

Carrie struggled to get up off the couch and waddled over to her. “Thank you, for the wonderful gift and for coming.”

“Of course dear.” Elizabeth pulled back to look at Carrie with loving eyes, glancing from her face to her belly and back. “Call me the moment she’s born.”

“Right after my last push,” Carrie promised, only half joking. She felt a small pang as the woman walked away. Elizabeth paused at the door to blow Carrie a kiss, and disappeared again.

“That woman. She comes in like a hurricane.” Debbie muttered, walking up to her daughter’s side. “Lovely gift,” she added.

“Yeah… pity she didn’t stay.” Carrie was pensive for a moment, then turned to her mother. “Hey, mom. Thank you.”

Debbie seemed genuinely caught off guard. “For what, dear?”

“For this incredible shower. It’s perfect,” Carrie said, kissing her mother’s temple.

Debbie smiled broadly. “It’s my pleasure. Truly. I love both of you,” she muttered, blinking back tears. She reached out and placed her hand on her daughter’s belly. “Oh! She kicked me!” Debbie giggled, her grin growing.

“She wants to say ‘thanks’, too,” Carrie smirked. “Thank you, Grandma.”

—  
Harrison walked inside to find an exhausted Carrie curled up in the armchair they kept next to the window. He walked over to her and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Hey, sweetheart.”

“Hi my love,” Carrie yawned, stretching and standing up to meet him. She noticed one arm stayed tucked behind his back as the other snuck around her back to pull her to him.

“How was the shower? Did they shower you?”

Carrie smirked. “They did… Elizabeth stopped by, actually.”

Harrison looked at her, confused. “Elizabeth Taylor?”

“Yeah… it was good to see her. She brought the funniest thing: a literal silver spoon, from Tiffany.” Carrie tried looked around for the card, but Harrison held her gaze.

“She stole my gift,” Harrison snorted.

Carrie raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

Harrison winked and finally moved his hand from behind his back. He held the same blue box, a little bigger than Elizabeth’s had been. This one had a pink tag that read, in his scrawled handwriting, Emma. Carrie took the box from him and studied it. “I love the way you write her name,” she said, looking up at him and smiling.

Harrison grinned back bashfully. “It’s a beautiful name. For a beautiful girl with a beautiful mother.” Carrie blushed, but didn’t look away. “Open it, sweetheart.”

She carefully pulled the bow from the box and peered inside. “Oh…” Inside was a tiny silver rattle. “That’s beautiful. It’s so little and perfect…”

“What does the inscription say?” Harrison wrapped his arms around her from behind and kissed her cheek.

Carrie squinted to read the single word. She dropped the box when her hand flew to her mouth to stifle a gasp. “Harrison…”

“What does it say?” He kissed the top of her head again.

She spun around in his arms and stood on the tips of her toes to return his kiss. “It says ‘Peanut’.” With her belly pressed against him, Harrison felt their daughter kick.


	12. Chapter 12

“Harrison, check out what I can do!!” Harrison turned around to find his wife balancing things on her belly. At seven months pregnant, Carrie had started stacking things on top of her stomach like it was a table. Today’s stunt was two books, and she tentatively balanced a coffee mug.

He snickered. “I’m gonna keep this record in mind when we’re old and I have a beer belly and can actually compete.”

Carrie set the items on the floor and went to hug her husband. “Somehow I can’t imagine you with a beer belly.”

“Well start imagining.”

She laughed, and Harrison’s smile broadened. “It shall truly be a sight to behold.” They stood there for a moment, holding on to each other, when Carrie suddenly gasped. “Holy shit.” The color drained from her face and her brown eyes widened.

Harrison moved one hand to cradle the back of her head. “You ok?”

She shook her head. “I think… I think I’m going into labor.”

Harrison shook his head gently. “I don’t think so, sweetheart. We still have two months. When Mary…” She cut him off with a whimper, her nails digging into is back. “Jesus, Fisher. That bad?”

She looked up at him, and Harrison

“Sweetheart, don’t worry.” He moved a hand to stroke her belly. “You ok in there, Peanut?”

“Harrison… I don’t know…”

“She’s fine, she’s just mad that you kept stacking books on her.” Harrison tried to keep the mood light. He felt his own anxiety bubble up. Now would be a great time to kick, kid, he thought.

Carrie’s breath quickened and she felt a lump rise in her throat. “The last time I felt this was…”

She didn’t have to say any more. Harrison knew exactly where she was going, and, as much as he tried, he couldn’t help going there too. “Come here,” he muttered, moving to pick her up.

“What are you doing?” He could hear the alarm in her voice.

“Shhhh sweetheart. It’s ok. I’ve got you.”

“Harrison…” she started to protest.

“Shut up and let me carry you.” His tone was playful, but his eyes were insistent. Carrie bit her bottom lip to stop herself from shooting back a witty remark - and to stop herself from crying out as another jolt of pain hit her. She slipped her arms around his neck as he bent to scoop her up. Even in her current state, he lifted her easily and placed a kiss on her forehead. “You good, sweetheart?”

“Among other things.” Her face contorted in pain and Harrison noticed a fear in her eyes he hadn’t seen since their twelve week ultrasound.

“Deep breath for me, beautiful,” he soothed as he placed her gently on the couch. “Sit tight.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead, and lingered for a moment. “I’m gonna call in a favor.”   
—

“It’s probably just Braxton Hicks,” Mark quipped from the driver’s seat.

“Just?” Carrie gasped as another wave hit her.

“I’d be careful with your word choice, there, kiddo,” Harrison said. He had called Mark to drive them to the hospital. Better safe than sorry, he thought. It would make Carrie feel better - and he wouldn’t mind hearing everything was fine, either. They sat in the back seat of Mark’s car, Carrie curled up against his chest with his arms around her. As she squirmed though another contraction, he placed a kiss on the top of her head. “It’s ok, you’re ok,” he whispered. She slipped her hand into his and held it tightly.

“Ok, but we’re gonna get there and they’re gonna laugh at you.”

“Honestly, kid, let ‘em laugh,” Harrison said as Carrie gripped his hand tighter, partially from pain and partially from anxiety. “If we get there and she’s fine and we’re being stupid bitches… nothing would make me happier.”

“I’d rather be a stupid bitch than…” Carrie trailed off.

Harrison kissed the top of her head reassuringly. “It’s ok, beautiful. We’re almost there.”

“Did you call ahead?” Mark asked.

“Call ahead?” Harrison was surprised at the tone of his own voice. “You can’t call ahead. This isn’t a goddamn restaurant.”

“Ok, shit, I was just asking.” Mark turned in to the front of Cedars-Sinai. “Ok, here we go.”

“Will you come in with us?” Carrie asked, her voice cracking.

Mark turned around to take her hand. “Absolutely. Let me park this thing and I’ll be right up.”

Harrison grasped his friend’s other hand. “Thank you, Mark. Really. Thank you.”

Mark smiled. “Of course. Now go, I’ll see you in there.”

—   
Harrison sat in the waiting room, his hands clasped together, his knuckles white.

“You ok?” Mark appeared, seemingly out of nowhere.

Harrison wiped the sweat from his brow and ran his fingers. “Yeah, it’s just…” He held his breath for a moment, then exhaled. “My whole world’s in that room.” He gestured  

Mark nodded and placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I know.” They took a moment, father to father, and Harrison breathed deeply to anchor himself.

“She sent me out here to wait for you,” he explained as he stood up. “They took her into a room, we have an ultrasound technician coming in a few minutes. They don’t seem concerned… you’re probably right.”

Mark feigned shock. “Can you say that a little louder?”

Smirking, Harrison repeated, “You were right. It’s probably just Braxton Hicks. But…”

He didn’t finish his sentence. He didn’t have to. “Of course,” Mark said, his eyes kind and understanding. “You did the right thing bringing her here.”

“I hope so.” Harrison smiled and stood up a little straighter. “Ok, let’s go in. And remember: we gotta stay calm. If we freak out, she freaks out.”

“Right, I know. I’m not freaking out.”

Harrison snorted. “I’m talking to myself.”


	13. Chapter 13

Mark had never seen Harrison move so fast. He cleared the space between the door and Carrie’s bed a single stride. She reached for his hand and held it tightly. “I’m back, sweetheart,” he muttered as he pressed a kiss to forehead. “How you doing, Peanut?” he asked, rubbing his wife’s belly. Mark could hear the anxiety in his voice.

“She’s been really quiet,” Carrie replied, her voice shaking.

Harrison frowned. “Anything since I went to wait for Mark?”

Carrie shook her head. “No contractions, just… nothing.”

Harrison sighed and squeezed her hand. “Let’s see what the doctor says.”

From the corner of room, Mark watched his friends. He felt badly for mocking them in the car; as sure as he was that the baby was fine, that Carrie was experiencing normal pregnancy pain, that their hospital trip was unnecessary, the pit in his stomach was growing. What struck him in that moment was Carrie and Harrison: he was stroking her hair and whispering to reassurances to her, and she had placed a hand on his cheek and was giving him a small but sincere smile. He’d always know them as “Carrison”: two incredible individuals who complemented each other, built each other up, got each other through. Watching them together filled him with peace.

“Hello, Ford family!” The chipper doctor walked into the room, making Carrie’s heart jump. On one hand, her words were encouraging: no doctor would address expectant parents that way if something was wrong with their baby. On the other hand…

“We’re ok, beautiful, it’s ok.” Harrison’s reassurances, whispered in her ear, cut through her thoughts. He saw where her mind was going, and wanted to stop it. Carrie looked at him and saw he was holding his breath.

“Let’s take a look, see how we’re doing,” the doctor said with a smile as she readied the ultrasound monitor.

“Did the tests say anything?” Carrie managed to choke out. Harrison kissed her hand as they waited for her response.

“No, and that’s a VERY good thing.” She stopped her preparations to look at the couple and smiled. “All your labs look just fine, nothing indicates any type of fetal distress. We’re just gonna get a little picture of her, see what her heartbeat’s sounding like… just check on her.” With that, the monitor flickered to life and the familiar image appeared. “Baby looks good… say hi, little one!”

Carrie sighed deeply and squeezed her husband’s hand again. “Hi, Peanut.”

“Hey Miss Emma.” Harrison was smiling, and Carrie noticed tears in his eyes. “Hi Peanut.” He kissed his wife’s forehead again and placed a hand on her belly. He took a deep breath and tried to take a mental snapshot of this moment: his wife, his daughter, his family. Safe. Happy. Smiling.

“Your pain was almost certainly Braxton Hicks,” the doctor explained, placing a soothing hand on Carrie’s knee. “They’re no fun and really scary, but very common and harmless. They’re basically ‘practice contractions’, like your body’s prepping for the real thing.”

“And they don’t hurt the baby at all?”

“Nope!”

It was Carrie’s turn to sigh and smile. “She was so still…”

The doctor shrugged. “Sometimes little ones don’t feel like moving. She’s tired - she’s growing.”

Carrie smirked. “So she’s being a drama queen.” Harrison laughed out loud and kissed his wife.

Mark watched, tears in his eyes. Their love for each other was clear, as was their love for their little girl. They were a radiant couple, and soon they’d be incredible parents. “You’re a lucky little girl, Peanut,” he whispered. He looked at Harrison, his face all smiles, and Carrie, whose eyes were dancing as she laughed. He glanced at the image on the screen: a mix of the two of them. “The world’s not ready,” he laughed under his breath. “Hot damn, the world’s not ready.”

–   
Mark drove them home. Exhausted, Carrie went straight to bed while Harrison thanked their friend with a couple of beers. “I can’t thank you enough, truly,” he said as he walked Mark to the door.

“Of course. Any time and always.” Mark smiled. “We’re family and this is what we do.”

Harrison grinned and patted his friend’s arm. “Sure is.”

After Mark drove away, Harrison took a deep breath and looked around the room. He smiled, content, but his arms felt empty; he turned off the last light and walked to the bedroom. “Carrie?” He whispered his wife’s name. “You awake, beautiful?” His question was met with silence, and he smiled. It had been an intense day and he was glad she was resting. As quietly as he could, Harrison slid into bed next to his wife and wrapped his arms around her. “I love you, Carrie,” he whispered in her ear. She cooed and snuggled closer to him; even in her sleep she responded to his voice and his touch.

Harrison looked at his wife’s face. He’d called her “beautiful” for as long as they’d been together, and he meant it. Her face, her eyes, her laugh, her soul - all gorgeous. He could see how special she was he second he met her.

She’d told him once how shocked she was that a man like him could be satisfied with the likes of her. He’d laughed it off, but deep down he’d wondered how a bright light like her could be with someone like him.

Everyone had an opinion on the set, and, later, in the press. One headline in particular stood out to him: Page 6 reported being “shocked”.

Nobody was more shocked than Harrison Ford, and no one was more grateful. He pulled his wife closer and closed his eyes.


	14. Chapter 14

Carrie sat in bed, propped up by several pillows. She was 8 months pregnant and, at five feet, standing was difficult. The tiny baby she and Harrison called “peanut” was much bigger than a peanut now.

That morning, Harrison had informed her that Emma was the size of a honeydew melon. She’d groaned and said “Feels bigger. Like a bowling ball.” Now she was watching her husband and Mark buzz back and forth in the hallway. “Harrison?” She called his name and he covered the distance between the door and their bed in a single stride.

“You OK, sweetheart?” He placed one hand on her cheek and the other on her belly.

Carrie smirked at him. Ever since their scare - if Carrie could really call Braxton-Hicks a scare - Harrison had hardly left her side, jumping every time she coughed, squirmed, or looked uncomfortable. It amused her that Harrison, who had made his career as a reckless action hero, was so incredibly cautious. She smiled and leaned in to his touch. “We’re ok,” she assured him, placing her hand on top of his.

He blushed a little and smiled back. “I know, I just… well, you know.”

Carrie did know, and she leaned in to kiss him. “I love you,” she whispered, which made him smile wider.

“What’s up, beautiful,” he asked, sitting next to her on the bed.

“What are you and Mark doing in there that I can’t see?”

He winked and kissed her forehead. “That’s for me to know and you to find out.” She pouted, and he laughed. “It’s a present for my girls.”

“Hear that, Peanut? Daddy’s giving you another present!” Carrie said, guiding his hands back to her belly.

“You’re gonna love it,” he cooed into her stomach. “Your mommy is, too.” Carrie smiled sheepishly. She loved being called “mommy”. Noticing this, Harrison kissed her belly, then her cheek. “I made it just for you,” he continued.

“Ah ha! So it’s something you’re making!”

“Sure is,” he said. “You’re growing an infant, I figured I’d do a little work too.” Harrison bent down to give his wife another kiss. “You be good in there, Peanut. Don’t give your mommy any more trouble. I’m serious, little one. Just chill out for a few more weeks.”

They heard footsteps as Mark entered the room. He’d long since stopped knocking or hesitating to walk in to their bedroom. He was family and he knew it. “Hey, there you are.” He eyed his friend quizzically. “Are you… talking to her stomach?”

“You’re damn right I am,” Harrison answered, never taking his eyes off Carrie and her bump. “I can’t fucking wait to meet you, Peanut.”

“Excuse you!?” Carrie slapped his hand off her belly. “Can you not swear around the baby?”

“Oh please,” Mark laughed as he walked over to the side of the bed. “What do you think you’re gonna be like in labor, little missy? The first words that kid hears are gonna be ‘fuck, shit, fucking fuck!”

“Shut the fuck up,” she teased as he placed his hand next to Harrison’s. “Kick him, Emma. Kick both of 'em.”

“I wouldn’t, kiddo; we still gotta finish making your present,” Harrison said coyly. Both he and Carrie laughed when they felt a solid, forceful kick against his hand.   
–

“I don’t see why you’re leading me - my belly will hit anything way before I do,” Carrie joked as Harrison covered her eyes and walked her towards Emma’s room.

“We’re almost there, now shut up and enjoy the aura of mystery,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“Fine, fine…” she muttered; they stopped and she felt Harrison’s breath on her ear.

“Ready, sweetheart?” She nodded; he lifted his hands and Carrie’s eyes snapped open to reveal the present that her husband had worked so hard to make for their baby girl.

When she saw it, she gasped. “Oh, Harrison…” It was a sleigh crib in dark cherry wood. She looked closer and saw the incredible detail he’d carved into the railing. It was so beautiful, so solid, and so clearly made with a father’s love.

“You like it?” He put hands on her shoulders and kissed her cheek.

She turned to face him with tears in her eyes. “I love it… this is incredible.” She stood on her tiptoes and maneuvered her belly to give him a kiss. “I always forget you were a carpenter.”

He smiled his dopey, lopsided smile. “I made my boys’ crib, I wanna make her’s too.”

Carrie smiled back at him. “There’s no better place for her,” she muttered as he placed his hands on her belly. “You like it, Peanut?”

At eight months, Harrison could feel more than kicks. He felt her moving and grinned - “She likes it.”

Carrie put her hand over his and sighed, deeply and contently. “Of course she does. She’s a lucky little Peanut with you as her daddy.”

Harrison kissed his wife’s forehead. “And with you as her mother.”


	15. Chapter 15

Carrie was buzzing again. That’s what Harrison called it, at least.  The baby books called it “nesting”, but what she was doing now had nothing to do with the baby who was coming. This was about Eddie and Debbie coming over for brunch. She was switching out the silverware on their formal dining room table. “The other ones were too fancy,” she explained to her husband as he walked past.

Harrison smiled. “I’m sure they were, sweetheart,” he said, kissing her forehead and moving his hand across her belly.

“Are your parents sure they wanna stay in a hotel?” Carrie asked.

“Yeah… they got a great place downtown, they’re gonna see some sights while we wait for Peanut to get here.” Harrison’s parents were private people, the opposite of Carrie’s. They hardly ever came to Los Angeles, and when they did, they preferred to stay in anonymity. “They get in on Thursday… we’ll pick ‘em up and take them to the hotel, then we’ll all come back here. I’m going to the studio on Friday and Mom wants to help you get everyting ready.”

Carrie smiled, calming down. “Can’t wait.” Emma unleashed a flurry of kicks against her father’s hand, and they both laughed. “Can’t wait for you, either, Peanut. You’re late.”

“She’s not late,” he laughed. “The due date is an approximation, not an appointment.”

“I don’t care, It’s hot and I’m huge and miserable,” she groaned with a pout.

Harrison gathered her hair and massaged her neck with his free hand. “I know, beautiful, I know.”

“I’m not sure you do, but I appreciate the sentiment,” Carrie giggled.

Harrison snorted and kissed her forehead. “You’re right, of course… Hey, Peanut… GET OUT!”

As soon as he said that, they heard the front door open. “Hello, dears, its your mother… Debbie.” The woman’s voice wafted through the air as she let herself in without knocking.

“As opposed to my mother Vladimir…” Carrie muttered under her breath as the tiny blonde floated into the room.

“Is she buzzing again?” Debbie asked Harrison with a wink.

“She is,” he said, giving his mother in law a shy smile and hug. “She’s a little nervous about Eddie,” he whispered.

“Well, aren’t we all?”

Eddie Fisher dominated every room he was in. He always had. And today, he was coming here. He’d come down from San Fransisco to be there for the birth of his first grandchild; Carrie and Harrison wanted all of Emma’s grandparents to be there for what they called her Opening Night. It seemed like a good idea in theory, but in practice it was proving more complicated - especially because it required Debbie and Eddie to be in the same place at the same time.

As if on cue, the doorbell rang. “I’ll get it,” Carrie muttered as she lumbered towards the door and threw it open.

“There’s my little girl!” Eddie thew his hands up and wrapped his arms around his daughter. She was so pregnant, he hardly could.

“Hi Dad,” Carrie said with a genuine smile. As anxious as he made her, she was glad to see him.

“Hey there Princess.” Eddie kissed her cheek theatrically, then waved at the other two people inside the house. “Hey, Harrison. Hey, Debbie.”

“Hello Eddie,” Debbie said sweetly. “It’s nice of you to drop by.”

“Anything for my baby girl,” he grinned as he kissed Carrie’s forehead. “And here’s the guy who knocked her up!”

Harrison cringed at the crooner’s vulgarity. He knew it was a joke, he knew it was part of Eddie’s “charm”, but it bothered him. Carrie reached over and took his hand with an apologetic smile. “Hi, Eddie,” he said. “How’s Northern California?”

“Cold and wet and wonderful,” Eddie replied before turning to Carrie. “Look,” he said, pulling his wallet out from his back pocket. “Who’s that?” he asked, pointing to a sonogram picture. Carrie felt a lump in her throat.

It was Emma, of course, and it was a pretty recent picture, too. But it looked much older than it was: the edges were curling and deep creases zig zagged across its face. This was a well loved photo, a photo that had been taken out and passed around, a photo that had been looked at for hours and placed under pillows and gone everywhere its owner went. “That’s Emma,” she breathed; Harrison made his way over to her and kissed the top of her head.

“Sure is,” he replied, not seeming to notice his daughter’s emotion. “You were such a darling baby,” he continued, sitting next to Debbie on the couch and putting his feet up on the Ottoman. Debbie shot a glance to the couple that made Harrison chuckle under his breath. “You were the fattest thing, like a little pink marshmallow. You had these rolls on your arms and legs like one of those Italian sausages… Remember, Deb?”

“I do,” Debbie answered, smiling at her daughter.

“So cute, and we got to share you with the world.” For a moment, Eddie’s star seemed to dim as a contemplative look flashed across his face. “My little Carrie Bear.”

Carrie waddled behind the couch and put her hand on the man’s shoulder. “I’m glad you’re here, Dad.”

“I’m glad I’m here, too.” He smiled at his daughter before turning to his ex wife. “You glad I’m here, Debbie?”

Debbie flashed her movie star smile. “Among other things.”

—  
“I’d say that went well,” Harrison remarked as he climbed into bed next to Carrie.

“Knowing Eddie and Debbie, it did.” She smiled up at her husband, who bent down to kiss her forehead before wrapping his arms around her; he rested his hands on her belly and smiled.

“Won’t be able to do this for much longer,” he smiled as she snuggled against his chest.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be fat again someday.”

He laughed and his hold on her tightened. “I love holding my girls,” he cooed into her hair. “You comfy, beautiful?”

“Always.” She placed her hands over his and laced their fingers together. “You ok in there, Peanut?”

“I’m fine, mom! I’m getting ready to meet youuuu,” Harrison said in a squeaky voice that made Carrie snort.

“Yeah, well, hurry up, you’re late.”

“I’m not laaatteee, I’m taking my tiiimmeeee.” They both laughed and Carrie squeezed her husband’s hands.

“You ready, Ford?”

Harrison shook his head. “As ready as I’ll ever be. We got the crib, the car seat, the tiny clothes… all the baby shit. All we need is a baby.” He kissed his wife’s hair again and asked, “You ready, Fisher?”

“Actually, I am,” she answered honestly. “So don’t get to comfy in there, Peanut, your lease is almost up.”  

“Hang in there, sweetheart,” Harrison whispered to her. “You’ll be a mommy soon enough.”

___   
Carrie lay on the couch and listened to Harrison’s mom buzz in the kitchen. She’d been helpful without being intrusive - exactly what they needed. Suddenly, Carrie’s hand flew to her stomach.

She’d expected to be scared, and she was, but more than scared she felt an overwhelming sense of calm. “Mrs. Ford?” she called to the kitchen.

“You can call me Dorothy, honey,” Harrison’s mom said sweetly.

“Hi, Dorothy,” Carrie forced a smile as she turned to the tall woman standing the in the doorway. “Can you call Harrison? He’s at the studio…”

Dorothy recognized the new mother’s tone immediately. “Absolutely. Stay right were you are.”

“It may take a few tries… he’s really into his work…” Carrie explained. The feeling was sharp, but subsided quickly.

“Oh honey… he’ll be here. Trust me.”


	16. Chapter 16

Carrie curled up on the side of the couch. “When did he say he was coming?”

Harrison’s mother, Dorothy, smiled at her. “He left as soon as he got off the phone with me.”

“He’s a fast driver,” Christopher, Harrison’s father, said, flashing Carrie the same smirk his son gave her every day.

“He’ll be here soon, honey, don’t worry.”

The doorknob turned, and Carrie held her breath. It was Debbie, not Harrison, who came in. “Hello, dear,” she said softly, walking over to her daughter. “Dorothy called… here we go!”

Carrie smiled faintly. “Mom.”

Debbie took her daughter’s face in her hands and smiled. “Pretty soon, you’ll be ‘mom’,” she said with a smile. “Let me get you some tea.” As Debbie rushed into the kitchen, Dorothy moved in next to Carrie on the couch to take her place.

The doorknob turned again, stuck this time. “That must be him, he always fiddles with his keys when he’s nervous,” Christopher laughed. “I’ll go let him in.”  

The door swung open and Harrison brushed past his father to get to his wife. “Hey you,” he said softly as he knelt down and placed a soothing hand on her thigh. “How you doing, beautiful?”

She bit her lip and looked up at him, her brown eyes wide. “I think another one’s coming,” she whispered. The pain felt like a punch in the stomach; she felt winded, like she could barely speak.

“Awww sweetheart…” he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her as close to his chest as he could without moving her too much; his hand slid to the small of her back as he kissed her forehead. “Deep breath for me,” he muttered to her with a smile. “Breathe into my hand. It’ll be over soon, beautiful, I’ve got you.”

She whimpered and looked up at him. “And these are the easy ones,” she gasped.

Debbie hung back uncharacteristically, watching Harrison comfort her daughter. Carrie’s face contorted as a contraction continued; Harrison’s hand flew up to cradle her face and stroke her cheek with his thumb. “You’re ok, sweetheart, I’m right here.” Carrie’s brow smoothed and her face relaxed. With the pain subsiding, Carrie looked over and saw her mother. “Mom…“ she gasped.

Debbie let out a long breath. “This one’s over, darling.” She smiled at her daughter and placed a cup of tea next to her. “Are we keeping track of everything?”

Carrie nodded and Harrison kissed her forehead. "We called the hospital, they told us to wait and come in once contractions are 5 minutes apart,” Dorothy explained.

Debbie nodded. “I know something that’ll help,” she said with a smile, squeezing Carrie’s hand before retreating to the back of the house.

Carrie smiled as she heard her mother turn on the water in the bathtub. “She had two kids, she knows what she’s doing.” She turned to kiss her husband’s cheek; Harrison had moved from on his knees in front of her to next to her on the couch.

Harrison smiled. “We’re gonna take care of you, beautiful, don’t worry.”

She grabbed his hand and smiled. “I’m not worried. We’re gonna be just be just fine.”

“I have bag ready to go, I put the carseat together, I have the timer right here,” Harrison rubbed her back soothingly. “We’ll hang out here until contractions are 5 minutes apart. Until then, we’ll hang out here, rest up, get ready.”

Carrie smiled and snuggled closer to him. “Holy shit, we’re almost there.”

“We sure are. Come here, beautiful,” he muttered, moving to scoop her up. “Let’s get you in that bathtub - it’ll help once the next one comes.”

“You sure you can carry me,” she laughed.

“Of course, sweetheart, I got you.”

—  
“Jesus Christ, fuck!” Carrie swore as her nails dug into the back of Harrison’s hand. “How long was that one?”

“It was a good 45 seconds, sweetheart…”  

“The last one was five and a half minutes ago, honey.” Dorothy rubbed Carrie’s back the same way her son had been all afternoon. “What do you think?”

“I think we should go,” Carrie moaned through gritted teeth.

“Yeah?” Debbie sat down next to Dorothy. “I’ll call them, I’ll tell them that you’re having 45 second contractions five minutes apart, and ask if we can come in.” Seeing Carrie in pain hit Debbie in a way she hadn’t expected. She’d busied herself with the details of the labor; feeling useful calmed her nerves. Debbie didn’t want Carrie to know how nervous she was, and managed a smile as she walked out of the room to call the hospital.

“I think this is it, babe,” Carrie said as Harrison he moved to sit beside her on the couch.

“Ok, sweetheart, ok,” he said soothingly. “As soon as your mom gets off the phone…”

“I’m back! They said to come on in.” Debbie placed her hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “You ready, darling?”

Carrie nodded silently and placed her forehead against her mother’s chest. “Let’s go,” she muttered, reaching for Harrison to help her up.

“Easy, sweetheart, easy,” he cooed as he slowly helped her to her feet. “We got a long way to go, we’ll get there soon. There’s no rush.”

“Not for you, maybe… but they have drugs there. I want to go to there.”

Harrison laughed and kissed the top of her head. “We’ll be there soon. My dad will drive, my mom will navigate, your mom and me will stay in the backseat with you. Your dad will meet us there You’re gonna be fine.”

Carrie nodded. “Is your dad gonna mind me leaking on his seats?”

Christopher laughed. “It’s a rental, and we got insurance. Leak to your heart’s content.” He playfully punched his son’s arm. “I’ll bring it around, you get her outside safely.”

“Deal,” he said with a grin. “Come on, sweetheart, let’s go meet our baby girl.”

“Ok, Peanut, showtime,” Carrie laughed as she rubbed her belly. “I can’t wait to meet you. I love you.”   
___

“Welcome Baby: EMMA  
Mommy: CARRIE  
Daddy: HARRISON”

Carrie smiled as she read those words for the hundredth time. She stared at them, trying to memorize every detail: the way the nurse’s handwriting curled up at the end of the “a” in Emma’s name, the stray eraser marks on the dry erase board, the way it felt to look at “Mommy” and see her name.

“The epidural is ready, sweetheart,” Harrison whispered with a kiss to the top of her head. “You ready?”

“Oh my god, yes,” Carrie sat up straighter as the doctor prepared. She saw the needle and gasped.

“I know it’s big,” the doctor said apologetically. “It packs a big punch so it needs a big package. I’m gonna come around and put it in your back.”

Harrison laughed at her use of the word “package”, but it didn’t seem to ease Carrie’s anxiety. “Hey,” he said, moving in front of her. “This’ll help, I promise.” She looked up at him, her face white. “Look at me, beautiful. Don’t look at the needle, look at me.” She nodded and leaned forward to bury her head in his chest.

“Deep breath,” the doctor said as Carrie felt a jolt of pain rip through her body.

“Holy fucking shit. What the fuck was that??”

“I’m so sorry,” Harrison mouthed to the doctor.

“Don’t worry,” she said with a dismissive wave. “I’ve heard worse. But you, Ms. Fisher,” she said as she slowly withdrew the needle, “are done.”

“Good job, sweetheart,” Harrison whispered and kissed her forehead. He held for a moment, then gently laid her back down onto the bed.

“You should start feeling the numbing effects in about 15 minutes; I’ll be back to check on you soon,” the doctor said with a smile.

“Thank you,” Carrie mumbled nervously. “What should we do until then?”

The doctor’s smile widened as she shot a glance at Harrison. “We get you comfy and wait for your baby girl.”


	17. Chapter 17

“She asleep?” Debbie tiptoed in and slid next to Harrison at Carrie’s bedside.

“Yeah…

“Good.” Debbie smiled and smoothed her daughter’s hair. “She should rest while she can…”

Harrison nodded and kissed his wife’s forehead. She cooed and her eyes fluttered open. “Hi mom… Hi darling…” she muttered faintly.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” Harrison whispered to her. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s ok… I’m not really sleeping anyway.”

Harrison laughed and took Carrie’s hand. “Epidural not working?”

“This is the ‘working’ version,” Debbie said with a coy smile.

“I’m ok for now… these drugs are fantastic.” Carrie winced as she tried to sit up and Harrison rushed to put a pillow behind her back.

“Only the best for you, dear,” he grinned.

“Hi everyone!” A cheerful nurse knocked on the door on the way in. “I’m Maureen, I’m your night nurse!”

“Hello dear,” Debbie chirped.

Maureen shot a sweet smile to the future grandmother before turning to Carrie and Harrison. “Ok, Ms. Fisher, I’m gonna go ahead and see how dilated we are.”

“We? WE’RE not dilated shit… I’m the one who’s dilating or whatever.”

Harrison snorted and squeezed her hand; Maureen chuckled. “That’s right… let’s see how dilated YOU are.”  

“Hey, I had a role in this too…” Harrison feigned protest as he kissed Carrie’s palm.

“Your part is over, dear,” Debbie remarked as she retreated to a chair against a wall.

“Yeah… you had your fun.” Carrie grunted

“The fun’s just beginning,” Debbie said, smiling and winking at her son in law. “You’ll see, Daddy.” Harrison grinned and returned his attention to his wife.

“Ok Ms. Fisher, looks like you’re six centimeters. You’re getting there, but we’ve got some time before you have to start pushing. Try and get some sleep… rest up, it’ll be delivery time before you know it.” Maureen flashed the family one last smile as she pulled off her gloves and headed outside.

“That’s exactly what I said,” Debbie called after her. She stood up and smiled at Carrie and Harrison. “I think your brother is here, love. I’ll go check, I’ll be right back.”

Harrison watched Debbie scurry out of the room. She’d been surprisingly helpful during the process: attentive but not hovering, knowledgable but not bossy. _Say what you want about Debbie Reynolds_ , Harrison thought, _she’s a fucking good mom._ He smiled down at his wife. “How you feeling, beautiful.”

“Ok… kinda hazy… kinda numb. A little nervous.”

“Aww sweetheart.” He placed one hand on the  back of her head and the other on her belly. “I’m nervous too.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Really. I went to the bathroom four times while you were knocked out.” Carrie laughed, and Harrison felt the baby shift under his hand. “You good in there, Peanut? You ready?”

Carrie giggled again. “Getting close, Miss Emma.” She placed her hand over his on her stomach and laced their fingers together. “We can’t wait to meet you.”

Harrison kissed Carrie’s belly, then her forehead. “Get some sleep, beautiful. I’m right here, I’ll be right here.” Carrie nodded and closed her eyes; he moved his hand to stroke her leg. She let out a heavy, contented sigh. “That feel good?” She nodded and snuggled her head into the pillow. “Sleep, sweetheart.”

—

Carrie drifted in and out of sleep. Harrison watched her breathe and kissed her forehead, her palm, her cheek, careful not to wake her so she could save as much energy as possible before pushing started.

“Hey Daddy,” she smiled up at him. “You doing ok?”

“I’m doing a lot better than you, Fisher,” he joked with a kiss on her hairline.

“If you wanna go outside, get some air…” Debbie encouraged.

Harrison signed deeply. “Actually, I’d love some coffee…” He changed a glance at the clock and gasped.

“What?” Carrie asked, craning her head to see.

“You don’t wanna know how long we’ve been here, sweetheart… I’ll tell you when it’s over.”  

“Go ahead, take a break. I’ll take care of her,” Debbie smiled as she took her daughter’s hand.

“It’s ok,” Carrie said. “I want you fresh for the marathon coming up.”

“Alright, sweetheart, alright.” He squeezed her hand and kissed her forehead one more time as he stood up. “I’ll be gone ten minutes max. And I’ll bring some ice chips.”

As much as he didn’t want to leave her, Harrison couldn’t help but feel a little relieved as he walked outside the hospital room. It was dark and drafty, and he couldn’t share the image of Carrie lying there in pain. He walked over to the coffee vending machine, put in a dollar, and positioned the styrofoam cup. He hadn’t realized how tired he was until he smelled the hot stream of coffee.

Harrison stood there for a moment and took everything in. Everything seemed surreal; everything moved in slow motion. “Holy shit,” he whispered as he lifted the cup to his lips, then grabbed another cup and filled it with ice. “Holy fucking shit.”

“I know that feeling, man.” Harrison turned around to see Eddie Fisher standing behind him.

“Hey, Grandpa.” Harrison flashed his best cinema smile. He always felt guarded around Eddie, but not in the way he felt around Debbie. Debbie was part of their daily lives, which carried its own challenges, but Eddie was like a rainstorm: sudden, unpredictable, and precariously close to violence.

“You making iced coffee?” Eddie gestured to the two cups in Harrison’s hands.

“No, these are for Carrie…”

Eddie nodded. “How is she?”

“She’s good, the baby’s good… we’re just waiting.” An awkward silence passed between them, and Harrison shifted to pass him. “I gotta get back to her…” He started walking back toward Carrie’s room.

“Wish I could be in there…” Harrison stopped and turned around when he heard the tone of Eddie’s voice. “But with her mother… it’s better that she be with her mother.”

Eddie sat down and motioned for Harrison to join him; he did. “It’s a girl thing… they kicked me out too…” he started.

“You don’t have to do that… I know what you’re trying to do and you don’t have to.” It was silent again, and Harrison wondered why he hadn’t gotten up to leave yet. “I’m glad you’re doing this… having this baby. I’m really glad.”

“I am too.” Harrison swirled his coffee and avoided his father in law’s gaze. “Our little Peanut…”

“I wasn’t sure for a second there, when you met, when you got together, but now… I’m glad you’re having this baby, it means you’re sticking around.”

Harrison looked up, quizzically. It was a rude thing to say, but coming from Eddie it seemed less like an accusation and more like a a genuine statement of fact. “I was always gonna stick around,” he started.

“I know… but I was in your position once. The movie star marriage, the media, the pressure… I’ve been in your shoes and it’s hard. But you’re up to the challenge. I wasn’t. You are.”

“Eddie…” Harrison drew out the syllables in his name as he tried to think of a response.

“No, you are.” His voice was so resolute and so sincere, Harrison finally looked the other man in the eye. “When Carrie was growing up, I was a terrible father. I was a terrible husband. Sometimes I felt like I was watching someone else making these mistakes, but I kept choosing the wrong things over and over again.” He sighed. “All I want for Carrie is for her to be with a better man than me. A better husband, a better father… and, kiddo, you’re it.”

Harrison took a deep breath. “Thanks, Eddie. Means a lot to me.”

Eddie smiled and gestured to the ice chips. “Better get back to your girl in there.”

“My girls. Both my girls are in there.”

“Of course… I’ll see you on the flip side, Daddy.”

Harrison raised his coffee cup. “See you soon, Grandpa.” He turned around, almost hesitantly, and made his way back into Carrie’s room.

“Harrison…” Carrie reached out for his hand and he hurried over to her.

“I’m back, beautiful, and I brought you a present.” He kissed her forehead and noticed how sweaty it was; she was pale, too. “You doing ok?”

“Her epidural’s wearing off, and it’s too late to get another one,” Debbie explained as she rubbed her daughter’s leg soothingly. “But we’re almost there.”

“We’re almost there, sweetheart.” He took her hand and gripped it tightly. “We’re almost there.”


	18. Chapter 18

Carrie felt everything. The epidural had worn off and the contractions kept coming, each one like someone was twisting her insides. “Holy shit,” she gasped, desperately clutching the side of the hospital bed.

“How you doing, beautiful?” Harrison asked gently as he placed a wet washcloth on her forehead.

She looked up at him with pained eyes that broke his heart. “I can’t… where’s my mom?”

“She’s outside with your dad, sweetheart. Do you want me to go get her?”

Carrie nodded vigorously, then stopped as another contraction took over her body. “Can you…?”

He smiled at her. “Anything for you. She’s just outside, I’ll be right back. Breathe while I’m gone?” She nodded and he pressed a kiss to her forehead, moving the washcloth to the back of her neck. “Sit tight,” he whispered with a fins squeeze of her hand.

Debbie had gone outside for two reasons: first and foremost to see if Harrison’s parents had arrived with Ben and Willard, and secondly to see how Eddie was doing. Harrison’s boys weren’t there, but another grown up boy was.

“Hey Deb,” he nodded. She smiled curtly and sat down, leaving a chair between them. “How is she?”

“Fine.” They sat in silence until Harrison rushed into the room.

“Hey Debbie… can you come back in? She wants you.”

“Of course dear.” She stood up and placed a hand on her son in law’s cheek, then motioned to Eddie. “Are you coming?”

Eddie looked surprised. “Really?”

Debbie sighed. “Come on. Before I change my mind.”

They made their way back to Carrie. “I can’t breathe…” she gasped, holding out her hand and reaching for her mother. Debbie rushed to her wordlessly and took her hand, then turned around and motioned to Harrison.

“Hey you…” Harrison sidled quickly up to Carrie’s bedside.

“I think she’s having a panic attack,” Debbie said, placing her hand on her daughter’s forehead.

“Awww sweetheart…”

“We can get her something to calm her down…” Eddie started.

“Don’t.” Debbie held up her hand and stepped aside so Harrison could take her place. “Let’s see if we can calm her down first.”

“Look at me, beautiful,” Harrison whispered as he cradled her cheek in his palm. She gasped and her face contorted in pain, eyes darting back and forth in panic. “Don’t look at them, look at me.”

Carrie’s breathing sped up again. “Harrison…”

“Look at me,” he said again. “I’m right here. Take a deep breath for me.”

“Harrison…” she whimpered his name again. He smiled at her and took her hand, squeezing it tightly.

“Breath, sweetheart… that’s it.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead and smoothed her damp hair out of her face. “One more. I love you so much.”

Debbie smiled as she watched Harrison calm her daughter. “He’s a good one, huh,” Eddie muttered. “He’s the only one who can calm her down like that.”

“He is,” Debbie responded without taking her eyes off her daughter. “Here, darling, give her this.”

Harrison took the glass of water his mother in law offered him and put it to Carrie’s lips. “Take a sip, sweetheart.” She did, and smiled at him; he grinned back at her. “There’s my smile.”

“Hi Ford family!” The cheerful nurse Maureen walked in, a smile plastered on her face. “How are we doing? Ready for another checkup?”

“Yeah…” Carrie gasped.

“Epidural wearing off?” Maureen said sympathetically. Carrie nodded as the nursee moved between her legs. “Eight centimeters, Ms. Fisher! Two more and we’ll be ready to push.”

“How long will that take?” she whimpered.

Maureen placed a sympathetic hand on Carrie’s. “I don’t know exactly, honey, but we’re close.”

“I can’t take much more of this…” she groaned as the nurse smiled weakly and left the room.

“Sweetheart… Harrison returned to her beside and gently placed a hand on the small of her back. "Think you can stand up?”

“Are you crazy?” Eddie exclaimed from the corner.

“Hush,” Debbie said.

“The birth coach lady said moving around could help,” Harrison explained with an amused smile. Carrie nodded; Harrison guided her hands to his shoulders and wrapped an arm firmly around her. “Hold on, I got you,” he whispered as he gently helped her to her feet.

Eddie watched as Harrison lifted his daughter and tenderly placed her feet on the floor. Carrie held on to her husband and smiled up at him. He smiled back and ran his fingers through her hair, then slipped his arms around her waist. “Rock me?” she asked, her eyes pleading.

“Of course,” he whispered, pulling her as close as her belly would allow. He rocked her a few times in a soothing dance as her body tensed up again; he kissed the top of her head and started to sing to her. “You’re just to good to be true… can’t take my eyes off of you…”

“Hot damn, Deb,” Eddie whispered. “He’s a good man.”

Debbie nodded and smiled.


	19. Chapter 19

Harrison wondered how someone so tiny could have such a crushing grip. He grimaced, but smiled anyway. “Keep squeezing, beautiful,” he whispered to her.

“FUCK!” She squealed, squeezing even harder. “Jesus fucking Christ. I don’t think I can do this.”

“We’re so close, sweetheart,” Harrison muttered as he pressed a kiss to her temple.

“We are sure are!” Maureen, the nurse, said excitedly. “You’re 10 centimeters, Ms. Fisher! It’s just about time to push.”

“Ready, love?” Debbie clutched the hand that Harrison wasn’t holding. “You’re almost a mommy.”

“Here we go…” Harrison placed his free hand on Carrie’s belly and rubbed it gently as his wife squirmed. “How you doing, Peanut?”

“Baby looks good…” Maureen said with a smile. “Alright… We’re gonna have to ask everyone except the father to go ahead and get comfy in the waiting room.”

Debbie nodded, kissed Carrie’s forehead, and motioned to Eddie; he didn’t budge. “What?” he asked. “I’m the father… I’m her father,” he said, pointing to Carrie.

Maureen snorted. “Very funny, Mr. Fisher, but we need to clear this room. It’s about to get ugly in here.”

—  
Willard sat on the edge of his chair, swinging his legs back and forth. He looked up to see Debbie smiling at him. “You ready to be a big brother?” the woman asked sweetly.

Suddenly shy, the boy blushed, smiled at Debbie, then looked at his grandmother seated next to him. “Can you answer Ms. Reynolds?” Dorothy prodded gently.

“Yes ma’am I am!” Willard’s smile took up his entire face.

“She’s gonna be really tiny!” Ben warned jokingly.

“I know! I’m so excited!”

“You’re getting promoted to ‘Big Brother,’ huh, kiddo,” Eddie said with a gentle punch on the boy’s arm. Willard smiled up at him and giggled.

“And you’re gonna be a grandfather for the first time,” Dorothy said with a grin. “You excited?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” Eddie winked. “I’ve been showin’ everyone her sonogram, can’t wait to get some new pictures to add to the rotation.”

Debbie laughed and settled into the couch she was sitting in. “Miss Emma Grace Ford…” She giggled and folded her hands in her lap. “I love saying her name.”

“It really is a gorgeous name,” Dorothy agreed. “I’ve been knitting her initials on everything.”

Christopher beamed with pride. “She’s made her a hat, a blanket, and now she’s working on a onesie.”

Dorothy grinned at her husband. “Don’t tell Carrie and Harrison, but this guy’s been working on a rocking chair.”

The old man blushed. “I would have made the crib, but her daddy beat me to it.”

“How much longer?” Willard quipped.

“Not long, baby.” Debbie put her arm around the little boy. “Not long.”

—   
“Harrison… Harrison…” Carrie reached out and grabbed her husband’s t-shirt. “I can’t do this.”

“You’re doing great, sweetheart. Breathe into my hand.” He cradled her head and stroked her cheek. “Carrie… breathe.”

“I can’t… I can’t…” Her hand clutched tighter as she gasped and heaved forward. Harrison jumped out of the way just in time as she threw up all over the floor next to her bedside.

“We got a live one!” The delivery nurse sprang into action, pushing Harrison aside.

“Are you ok? Is she ok?”

“She’s ok, Mr. Ford. This is actually a really good sign. Her body just wants to get everything out.”

“Gotcha…” Harrison sounded skeptical.

“Grab her hand…” the doctor motioned to the bed. “Your baby girl is almost here.”

Harrison smiled and rushed back to his wife. “Look at me, beautiful,” he muttered. “You’re a few pushes away from being a mommy.”

Carrie grabbed her husband’s collar and pulled him closer. “Emma…” she whispered.

“That’s right, sweetheart.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead, then pressed his forehead against hers. “Here we go, mommy.”

But Carrie didn’t hear him. She didn’t hear anything - all she heard was the blood pumping in her ears and the sound of her own guttural cries. She felt a searing, white hot pain, then total calm. Slowly, her consciousness shifted back into the room.

“One more, sweetheart… just one more…” Harrison’s voice was the first thing she head.  “She’s coming, she’s coming… sweetheart, she’s here.”

Carrie’s heart stopped. “Oh my God, Harrison… she’s here.”

The tiny baby’s wails filled up the entire room. “Listen to those strong lungs…” Harrison beamed with pride. “She’s got her mother’s voice.”

“She’s so tiny…” Carrie muttered, in awe, as the doctor placed her newborn in her arms. She was tiny, pink, soft, and perfect. The baby stopped crying, pouted, and looked up at her mother. “Hi Emma… hi Miss Emma…”

“And she has her mother’s eyes,” Harrison cooed. He wrapped his arm around his wife and kissed the baby, then Carrie. “Her mother’s beautiful brown eyes.”

“She’s perfect.”

“Of course she’s perfect… she’s yours.”

Carrie kissed the baby’s tiny forehead. “She’s _ours_.”

Harrison chocked back tears as Emma wrapped her tiny hand around his finger.  _Such a strong grip for someone so small_ , Harrison thought for the second time that day. “Hi Peanut… we love you. We love you so much.”


	20. Chapter 20

“Careful with her head, buddy, there you go…” Harrison guided his youngest son’s hand behind the new baby’s head.

“How does it feel to have a baby sister?” Carrie asked, placed her hand on Emma’s tiny stomach.

“It feels GREAT!” Ben exclaimed with a smile that revealed his missing tooth. “She’s so cute!!”

Harrison beamed as he watched his three children. Willard was sitting up straight, clearly taking his new role as “big brother” to heart. Ben lingered in the back, ready to intervene and watching his younger siblings with pride.

“Before I forget…” Carrie slapped Harrison’s arm to get his attention and gestured toward their suitcase. “Emma brought something for her big brothers.” She took the baby from her husband and smiled at the boys.

Harrison laughed, rolled his eyes, and pulled out two wrapped presents. “Here, boys. From your new baby sister.”

Willard squealed with delight as he unwrapped a video game. Ben, being older, was more restrained and laughed. “Thanks, ‘EMMA’,” he giggled, using exaggerated air quotes.

“You’re welcome, big brother!” Harrison said, gently wiggling the baby’s chin to make it look like she was talking.

“We figured you’d appreciate the sentiment,” Carrie laughed as she stifled a yawn.

Harrison noticed right away. “You tired, beautiful?” he asked with a kiss to her head.

Carrie nodded. “A little.” Emma, watching her parents, yawned also. “And it looks like I’m not the only one, huh little one.”

Harrison smiled at them both, then turned to the boys. “Ok, gentlemen, why don’t you show grandma and grandpa your video games. Carrie and Emma are gonna get some rest.”

They nodded dutifully and existed, blowing silent kisses and grinning from ear to ear.

“Ok… I gotta go alert the media,” he said, kissing Carrie’s temple. “I’ll be right back, Peanut,” he said, pressing a kiss to Emma’s forehead. Emma sneezed, and Harrison laughed. “That’s right… I’ll be sure to tell them that.” He kissed Carrie one more time, then headed outside.

Carrie watched him leave, then focused on her brand new daughter, the weight of being alone with her baby for the first time washing over her and giving her goosebumps. “Hi Emma… hi Peanut. I love you.” She ticked Emma with one finger, causing the baby to squirm and coo happily. “I love you,” Carrie repeated. Without making a sound, Emma wrapped her tiny hand around Carrie’s finger and blinked, her long eyelashes fluttering.

Meanwhile, Harrison steeled himself as he walked toward the room where he knew reporters would be waiting. The hospital, which was used to celebrity births, designated a small part of the waiting room for the impromptu press pool. He put his hand on the doorknob and sighed.

“Hey, look at all the people who came to help change diapers!” The reporters laughed and Harrison couldn’t help but grin. “Seriously, guys, only got a few minutes, so let ‘er rip.”

“How’s Carrie, how’s the baby?” someone shouted from the back.

“Carrie’s fine, the baby’s fine, I’m still recovering.”

“Who does she look like?”

Harrison’s smile got even bigger. “She has her mother’s eyes… and her mother’s voice.”

“What’s her name?”

“Emma. Emma Grace.” His eyes teared up a little as he said his daughter’s name proudly.

“Any plans for another one?”

Harrison chuckled and rubbed his eyes. “You’re gonna have to take that up with my wife. Thanks, everyone!” He waved and turned around, heading back to Carrie and the baby. He practically ran down the hallway and back to Emma. “I’m back,” he whispered. “How are my girls?”

Carrie smiled. “We’re great… look!”

“She’s got quite the grip!” he said proudly. “You did good, sweetheart. Real, real good.”

“Knock knock, Ford family.” Harrison turned around instantly at the sound of his friend’s voice. “Got enough energy for one more visitor?”

“Mark!” Harrison rushed to the door to greet his friend, who was laden with flowers and a stuffed Ewok. “Thanks for coming by!”

Carrie sat up in bed and rocked Emma a little bit. “Godfather, Godfather!” she laughed as Mark set the flowers down in the windowsill and walked over to the bed. “Ready to meet your goddaughter?” Mark nodded, brushing back a tear as he put the stuffed ewok down at the foot of the bed and held his arms out to hold the baby.

“Mark Hamill, meet Emma Grace Ford,” Harrison said, his smile and voice oozing with pride.

“Oh my god… Oh my god…” Mark blinked back another tear as Carrie placed the baby in his arms. “Hi Miss Emma… we’ve been waiting for you. It’s so nice to meet you, cutie pie.”

The four of them sat in comfortable silence, the three adults lost in Emma’s face. The baby looked up at Mark, then at her mother, and finally to her dad. Her face scrunched up for a moment, and all three held their breath. She sneezed heartily; Mark laughed. “What a great sneeze, missy. Nice and strong.”

—  
The next three days passed slowly as Carrie healed and the new family filled an endless stream of well-wishers. Debbie designated herself press liaison on behalf of her new granddaughter, a role she excelled at with glee. Finally, the time came to take the baby home.

Harrison drove slowly into the driveway, taking extra care over the bump in the sidewalk. “Here we are, girls,” he smiled as the car came to a stop in front of their house. He put the car in park, then turned around to look at Carrie and Emma in the back seat; his smile got even bigger when he saw them. “We’re home.”

Carrie beamed back at him, then turned her attention back to the baby.  Emma looked at her mother and pouted, her tiny lip quivering. “Awww, baby, it isn’t that bad. It doesn’t have much curb appeal but it’s gorgeous on the inside.” The sound of her mother’s voice was soothing, and Emma’s cry stifled; she wiggled in her carrier as Harrison gingerly unhooked it from the carseat. “Here we go,” Carrie whispered as Harrison put his free arm around her and the new family walked toward their house.

“Welcome home, Peanut,” Harrison cooed as they walked in the doorway.

Carrie’s heart swelled with love and pride as the three of them walked slowly down the hallway and into Emma’s room. Watching Harrison with his daughter took her breath away every time. He walked slowly and deliberately, not taking his eyes off the baby. He still had the goofy smile that hadn’t left his face since she was born. They walked in to the nursery that they had so carefully prepared. Harrison carefully lifted Emma out of her carrier and placed her in the crib.

Emma’s brown eyes were wide as she took in her surroundings. Carrie stood on her tiptoes and leaned over the side of the crib to fix the baby’s hat. “Your daddy made this crib for you, Peanut,” she said with a smile.

“I sure did,” Harrison muttered softly, placing one hand on his baby daughter and slipping his other arm around her mother. “Just for you.”

Emma yawned and blinked her big brown eyes. “Go to sleep, my love,” Carrie whispered. The baby blinked a few more times before her eyes closed and her breath evened out, her belly rising and falling under Harrison’s hand.

Harrison pressed a kiss to Carrie’s temple as Carrie wrapped her arms around his waist. He took a breath and swallowed the lump in his throat. Gently, he rubbed the baby’s belly and slowly rocked his wife at his side. As Emma relaxed into her crib and wiggled to get comfortable, Harrison took a deep breath and started to sing. “You’re just too good to be true… can’t take my eyes off of you…”


End file.
